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OUR 


MODERN    ATHENS; 


OR: 


WHO     IS     FIRST? 


BY 

ANICETUS, 

AUTHOR  OF  "HARRY  LEROY,  OR  THE  FATALITY  OK  CRIME-,"  "HUMAN  NATUEB,  OB 

THE   HEAKT   UNVEILED  }"    "  THE   WALK  ',"    "  GENIUS,  ITS   FATE,"    ETC. 


BOSTON: 
FOR    SALE    BY    REDDINQ    &    CO., 

No.    8    STATE    STREET. 
1860. 


.. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1860,  by 

W.     A .     CLARK, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


DEDICATION. 


To  all  those  who  love  the  truth  better  than  the  mere  conventionalities 
of  life,  through  which  is  perpetrated  so  much  of  crying  and  inhuman 
wrong,  —  so  much  of  shameful  imposture  !  —  who  honor  that  courage 
which,  fearless  of  consequences,  dares  to  denounce  the  votaries  of  evil 
and  of  folly,  —  who  love  truth  for  its  sake,  and  prefer  an  honest  cen 
sure  to  a  cowardly,  sycophantic  acquiescence,  silence,  and  obsequious 
ness,  —  who  feel  that  there  is  a  God,  and  a  judgment  at  his  hands,  when 
these  bodies  which  we  now  inhabit  are  resolved  into  their  primitive 
dust,  —  who  delight  in  satire,  when  it  aims  to  improve  those  it  assails, 

—  who  believe  that  it  is  possible  to  laugh  persons  out  of  snobbery  and 
toadyism,  when  they  cannot  be  kicked  or  driven,  —  who  think  that 
there  is  some  truth  in  the  declaration  that  man  was  made  in  the  im 
age  of  his  Maker,  to  work  out,  by  his  talents,  som-e  good  for  himself 
and  others,  —  who  reverence  the  divine  will,  and  hail  with  irrepres 
sible  delight  the  outworking  of  it  in  mankind,  —  who  live  not  in  the 
mere  exteriors  of  the  mind,  but  dwell  mostly  in  those  beautiful  vales 
of  the  soul  from  whence  is  seen  the  gorgeous  lights  of  Heaven,  and 
where  is  heard  the  melodious  whisperings  of  Jehovah  and  the  angels, 

—  who  fear  not  to  applaud  and  defend  whenever  they  are  pleased,  — 
who  are  of  honorable  conscience,  —  who  believe  in  the  resurrection  of 
the  dead,  and  the  life  to  come,  —  who  despise  all  meanness,  and  love  a 
brave,  earnest,  and  daring  spirit,  —  who  tremble  not  when/ooZs  com 
mand, —  in  fine,  who  are  men  and  women;  not  caricatures  of  man 
kind  ;  —  to  these,  and  such  as  these,  we  dedicate  our  humble  verse  ; 
knowing  that  they,  at  least,  will  appreciate  our  motives,  and  commend 
our  labor. 

ANICETUS. 


Ml8<J007 


PREFACE. 


THERE  are,  in  "  Modern  Athens,"  very  many  individ 
uals  who  are  not  only  uncertain  as  to  their  position,  but 
are  quite  doubtful  as  to  who  are  and  who  are  not  first. 
This  is  a  problem  which  Euclid  could  easily  have  solved, 
and  which  the  author  of  this  verse  has  met  with  no  dif 
ficulty  in  unravelling.  He  trusts  that  the  fact  of  its  being 
in  the  dress  of  doggerel,  will  not  make  it  any  the  less  ac 
ceptable  to  those  who  can  derive  a  pleasure  even  in  the 
study  of  stones  ;  —  and  many  such  there  are.  We  geol 
ogize  a  somewhat  softer  matter,  and  by  availing,  in  a 
measure,  of  the  science  of  chemistry,  we  render  our  labors 
doubly  interesting,  to  those  who  may  feel  any  interest 
whatever.  It  is  to  these  that  we  appeal  for  support,  in 
our  effort  to  laugh  at  the  insolence,  the  vulgarity,  and 
foppery  of  a  large  number  in  our  "Modern  Athens," 
who,  assuming  to  be  first,  use  their  best  wit  to  make 
themselves  ridiculous  in  the  extreme. 

We  have  been  pointed  in  our  allusion  to  some  persons, 
who  are  especially  open  to  the  attacks  of  satirists ;  and 
though  we  disclaim  all  personal  hostility  to  them,  we  con 
fess  a  deep-seated  repugnance  to  their  manners  and  ideas. 
It  is  our  privilege,  as  it  is  the  privilege  of  all  men,  to 
amuse  ourselves  and  others  at  the  expense  of  those  who 
offend  by  the  exhibition  of  certain  habits  of  life  which 
are  at  variance  with  good  taste,  and  a  libel  on  humanity. 
We  do  not  suppose  we  shall  escape  the  animadversions  of 
the  individuals  whom  we  have  hit ;  and  it  is  possible  we 
may  be  hit  in  return.  We  do  not  apprehend,  however, 
I* 


VI  PREFACE. 

any  very  serious  bruises  ;  none,  at  least,  that  we  shall  not, 
in  our  good  physical  condition,  be  able  to  survive.  We 
have  thought  there  are  a  large  number  of  sensible  people 
in  this  community,  who  would  welcome  any  attempt  to 
put  down  the  insolence  of  that  monied  aristocraoy,  which 
is  so  insuiferable,  and  so  vulgar,  eminating  as  it  does  from 
narrow  minds,  infected  with  the  coarsest  ambition  and 
weakest  moral  tone.  We  claim  no  especial  merit  for 
the  verse,  aside  from  its  purpose ;  and  we  sincerely  trust 
that  no  critic  will  be  stupid  enough  to  criticize  us  as  a 
poet,  as  was  the  case  when  we  put  forth  our  former  pro 
duction,  "The  Walk."  Upon  that  occasion  an  astute 
somebody,  who  was  attached  to  the  Saturday  Eveuiny 
Express,  availed  himself  of  his  position  to  laugh  at  our 
poetry,  when  any  one  but  a  chucklehead  —  a  full-blooded 
bumpkin  —  would  have  seen  with  half  an  eye  the  verse 
was  intended  as  doggerel,  and  pretended  to  nothing  more. 
But  unfortunately  for  authors,  as  we  have  hinted  in  our 
present  production,  the  press  is  sadly  deficient  in  good 
literary  critical  talent.  Men  who  write  up  the  news  of 
the  day  set  themselves  up  as  censors  and  judges  of  author 
ship,  when,  in  point  of  fact,  they  are,  in  many  cases, 
totally  ignorant  of  the  subject  they  make  bold  to  handle. 
We  have  only  to  say,  so  far  as  we  are  concerned  it  is  a 
matter  of  no  moment  whether  they  are  quacks  or  not ;  but 
there  are  those  who  seek  through  their  genius  the  public 
favor,  and  endeavor  to  earn  a  livelihood  by  their  pen. 
Such  ought  to  be  spared  the  stupidity  of  critics  who  can 
not  write  their  vernacular  correctly,  and  do  not  know  a 
"  hawk  from  a  hernshaw." 

With  these  remarks,  by  way  of  preface,  we  respectfully 
invite  the  reader  to  the  banquet  of  amusement  which  is 
embodied  in  "  Our  Modern  Athens;  or,  Who  is  First?" 
If  encouraged  in  this  little  affair,  we  shall  continue  our 
efforts  to  assist  in  beating  down  those  notions,  peculiar  to 
a  certain  class  in  this  community,  which,  while  innocent 
enough  in  themselves,  operate  deleteriously  on  persons  at 
large. 


PREFACE.  VII 

We  have  in  MS.  a  novel,  with  the  same  title  as  this 
verse,  (although  entirely  independent  of  it),  which  would 
make  up  into  a  book  of  about  600  pp.  12ino.  It  covers 
the  whole  ground  of  snobbery,  and  displays  in  full  the 
ideas  of  all  classes  of  citizens.  We  have  offered  it  to  the 
publishers,  and  although  they  think  it  "an  original  and 
capital  thing,"  it  is  our  misfortune  to  be  a  neAV  author; 
and  their  policy  is  not  to  make  authors,  but  to  be  made 
by  them.  Truly  a  cute  notion. 

We  subjoin  a  synopsis  of  our  novel,  and  should  be 
happy  of  any  offers  of  publication  from  those  who  are  de 
sirous  of  seeing  the  sham  aristocracy  of  Boston  cuffed 
most  soundly,  in  a  work  full  of  incident  and  dramatic 
effect. 

OUR  MODERN  ATHENS;  Or,  WHO  is  FIRST? 
A  Novel.     By  ANICETUS. 

This  novel  opens  with  a  disquisition  on  wealth,  em 
bodying  the  Socratic  idea.  Then  follows  a  scene  with  a 
beggar,  in  which  he  is  kicked  from  the  door-steps  of  the 
dwelling  of  a  snob,  —  a  wealthy  aristocrat  residing  on 
one  of  the  most  fashionable  streets.  A  little  boy.  by  the 
name  of  Willie  Andrews,  observing  the  act,  stops  and 
commiserates  him;  he  is  soon  joined  by  a  little  girl, 
named  Nelly  Penniman,  a  playmate.  The  father  of  the 
girl  passes,  who  is  another  purse-proud  snob,  and  in  an 
angry  manner  sends  the  girl  home,  commanding  her 
never  again  to  be  seen  in  the  company  of  beggars  and  low 
boys  —  musician's  sons  !  Willie  Andrews  goes  home  with 
the  beggar,  determined  to  be  his  friend.  The  beggar 
dies  from  the  effect  of  his  ill  treatment,  on  the  bosom  of 
Andrews,  to  whom  he  bequeaths  a  pet  dog,  called  "  Bone." 
Nelly  Penniman,  whom  Willie  loved,  had  been  prevented 
all  association  with  the  boy.  She  forms  an  intimacy  with 
a  college  student,  by  name  McAlpin,  the  son  of  a  man  of 
wealth  and  genius.  This  alliance  is  presented  so  as  to 
define  clearly  the  manner  in  which  mere  snobbery  works 


VIIE  PREFACE. 

itself  in  with  true  refinement  and  culture.  The  marriage 
is  fully  sketched,  and  the  sharpest  ridicule  is  fired  at  the 
ceremony,  which  took  place  in  church,  whence  all  were 
excluded  not  expressly  invited.  Willie's  disgust  at  the 
pride  of  the  Pennimans ;  his  sorrow  at  Nelly  s  desertion 
of  him ;  his  vow  of  revenge ;  his  father's  noble  charge  to 
let  his  virtues  be  his  revenge.  Ida  Robinson  ;  her  inti 
macy  with  Willie  stated.  The  mysterious  box  taken 
from  the  beggar's  room ;  its  record  of  the  beggar.  Willie 
fears  his  love  for  Ida  is  not  a  true  passion ;  her  misery. 
Boston  Common  sketched,  and  some  noted  citizens  por- 
tratured ;  passing  of  the  snobs  in  their  carriages  through 
the  adjacent  streets.  Willie  and  Ida's  walk  ;  their  com 
ments  on  the  families  whose  dwellings  they  pass.  The 
Pennimans  soundly  laughed  at,  with  their  large  and  costly 
library  unread;  the  ball  they  give  in  honor  of ^  their 
daughter's  wedding  sketched  and  satirized.  Willie's 
clerkship  to  the  Catchpennies,  who  are  persons  aiming  to 
get  into  the  Penniman  set.  The  Catchpennies'  tea-table ; 
meeting  there  of  snobs,  among  whom  are  Mrs.  Touchme- 
not  and  her  daughter  Clasp-me-tighter ;  Willie's  bold  talk, 
and  the  Touchmenots'  indignation;  Mrs.  Catchpenny's 
discomforture ;  her  daughter's  nonchalance  ;  Wille's  re 
treat  from  the  house ;  an  amusing  conversation  between 
Mrs.  Catchpenny  and  her  daughter,  on  "sets."  Willie 
in  the  Public  Garden,  on  the  evening  of  his  retreat  from 
the  Catchpennies'  tea-table ;  his  merriment  while  seated 
on  one  of  the  benches,  over  Mrs.  Touchmenot's  rage. 
The  strange  woman ;  her  meeting  with  Willie ;  their  recog 
nition;  Willie's  happiness  to  have  met  once  again  the  girl 
who  sang  so  sweetly  and  was  so  beautiful,  whom  he  had 
seen  for  the  first  time  when  he  accompanied  the  beggar 
home,  in  a  small  house  directly  opposite  the  beggar's 
home ;  their  walk.  The  man  in  a  black  cloak ;  his  mys 
terious  appearance;  Willie's  apprehensions;  the  woman's 
caution  ;  Willie's  encounter  with  the  ruffian  ;  the  oath  ; 
the  woman's  (Agnes  Farrady's)  account  of  this  man  —  a 
broken-down  aristocrat,  who  wanted  her  for  a  mistress. 


PREFACE.  IX 

Willie's  discharge  from  the  Catchpennies' ;  his  enemies  ; 
his  courage  and  self-reliance ;  his  mother's  tears ;  an 
affecting  interview.  Agnes  Farrady  denounced  ;  Willie's 
defence ;  the  meeting  of  Agnes,  Willie,  and  his  mother 
and  father;  their  acceptance  of  Agnes;  her  excentric 
course  of  life  satisfactorily  explained.  Old  Mr.  Andrews' 
death ;  his  explanation  of  the  process  of  death,  while  under 
going  dissolution.  Agnes'  success  in  reforming  harlots; 
their°  gratitude.  Prostitution  pictured,  and  the  means 
suggested  to  circumscribe  it,  and  root  it  out.  The  sons- 
in-law  of  the  Pennimans  shown  in  their  dissipated  habits. 
Agnes  and  Willie ;  her  history  continued ;  their  sweet 
love.  The  Atlays  !  a  family  of  true  dignity ;  their  con 
trast  with  snobs.  Lucy  Atlay's  interest  in  Willie  An 
drews  stated.  Art  discussed.  Augustus  Hamilton  the 
friend  of  Willie;  his  love  of  Lucy  considered.  Mrs. 
Robert  McAlpin  (formerly  Miss  Nelly  Permiman)  writes 
from  Italy ;  her  letters,  in  which  Mrs.  McAlpin  states  her 
dear  Robert  will  drink,  and  is  so  self-willed  there  is  no 
doing  anything  with  him.  Agnes  Farrady ;  her  encounter 
with  the  ruffian  who  conceals  himself  in  her  house ;  his 
death.  Ida  Robertson's  love  for  Willie ;  her  jealousy  of 
Agnes ;  her  interview  with  Willie ;  her  rage  and  death. 
Willie's  home  at  Lexington  described ;  his  genius  consid 
ered  ;  his  study  of  the  law ;  Agnes  Farrady 's  love  sustains 
him;  true  happiness  pictured.  Mrs.  McAlpin's  return 
from  Europe ;  her  visit  to  Willie ;  her  offensive  manners ; 
her  repulse.  Round  Hill  Water-cure  introduced;  co 
quetry  illustrated.  Nahant ;  snobbery  drawn,  as  observed 
at  this  fashionable  watering-place.  Mrs.  McAlpin's  in 
terview  here  with  a  southerner ;  her  husband's  rage ;  the 
quarrel ;  the  combat ;  flight  of  parties  from  Nahant ;  the 
scandal-mongers  at  work.  Captain  Gasious,  a  half-breed 
Cuban,  and  the  Touchmenots.  Mrs.  Penniman's  agita 
tion  at  the  reports  about  her  children ;  meeting  of  snobs 
at  her  house  to  tea ;  the  Catchpennies  feel  insulted,  and 
retire  in  a  rage.  Willie  Andrews'  reputation  as  a  lawyer ; 
his  great  success ;  he  gains  a  suit  against  old  Penniman, 


X  PREFACE. 

who  sneered  at  him  when  a  boy,  because  a  musician's  son. 
A  famous  drinking  saloon;  Captain  Gasious  and  fashion 
able  young  men  drawn ;  Willie  Andrews'  meeting,  at  this 
place,  with  Robert  McAlpin ;  his  superiority  illustrated, 
and  his  bold  defiance  of  all  pretention  unsupported  by 
merit.  Willie's  meeting  with  old  Penniman ;  their  mutual 
disgust ;  the  triumph  of  Willie's  eye ;  the  parvenu  and 
snob  awed  by  the  power  of  merit.  The  Pennimans'  cha 
grin  at  Willie's  prosperity ;  he  was  rapidly  rising,  while 
McAlpin  was  rapidly  falling ;  their  regrets  that  Nelly 
did  not  marry  Andrews.  Agnes  and  Willie  ;  their  pop 
ularity  in  society ;  the  praise  lavished  upon  them.  Wil 
lie,  who  is  now  a  member  of  the  Suffolk  Bar,  is  regarded 
as  a  most  promising  lawyer ;  he  again  wins  a  suit  against 
Penniman  ;  the  old  man's  rage  ;  his  wife's  mortification  at 
being  obliged  to  give  up  her  carriage ;  their  fear  and  hate 
of  Andrews.  Old  Penniman's  depression.  Captain  Gas 
ious  and  Mrs.  Penniman ;  their  indiscretion  :  Penniman's 
discovery  ;  his  sudden  death.  The  Catchpennies'  failure  ; 
their  shame.  Robert  McAlpin's  death  ;  his  family's  joy  ; 
Nelly  McAlpin's  visit  to  Willie's  office ;  her  love  for  him 
expressed  ;  his  indifference ;  her  madness  and  death.  The 
Atlays'  friendship  for  Willie  rewarded  ;  Lucy  is  married 
to  his  bosom  friend,  Hamilton.  Hamilton  and  Willie's 
mutual  love  contrasted  with  the  heartlessness  of  snobbery. 
Mrs.  Penniman's  death,  and  the  full  triumph  of  Willie 
over  those  who  had  sneered  at  him  when  a  boy ;  —  fulfil 
ling  the  charge  of  his  father,  to  revenge  himself  for  the 
insult  of  the  Pennimans  by  his  virtues  ;  and  realizing 
the  words  of  the  old  beggar,  that  in  his  eye  was  a  genius 
which  in  future  years  would  make  him  famed. 

This  is  but  a  faint  outline  of  the  work,  from  which 
may  be  gathered  something  of  its  scope  and  design.  Any 
one  who  has  $1500  to  $2000  to  risk  in  the  publication 
of  this  novel  can  have  the  MS.  for  examination,  by  apply 
ing  to  the  author,  through  Redding  &  Co.,  8  State  St. 

A. 

January,  1860. 


WEALTH  is  the  smallest  thing  on  earth,  —  the  least  gift  that  God 
has  bestowed  on  mankind.  What  is  it  in  comparison  with  God's 
word  7  —  what  in  comparison  with  corporal  gifts,  or  those  of  the  under 
standing  —  wisdom  !  Yet  are  men  most  eager  after  it  when  it  has 
neither  material,  formal,  efficient,  nor  final  cause,  nor  anything  else 
that  is  good  ;  therefore  our  Lord  God  commonly  gives  riches  to  those 
from  whom  he  withholds  spiritual  good. 

MARTIN  LUTHER'S  "Table  Talk." 

This  much  the  poet  must  necessarily  borrow  from  the  philosopher, 
as  to  be  master  of  the  common  topics  of  morality.  He  must  at  least  be 
speciously  honest,  and  in  all  appearance  a  friend  of  virtue  throughout 
his  poem.  The  good  and  wise  will  abate  him  nothing  in  this  kind  ; 
and  the  people,  though  corrupt,  are,  in  the  main,  best  satisfied  with 
his  conduct.  SHAFTSBURY. 

It  is  with  narrew-souled  people  as  with  narrow-necked  bottles  :  the 
less  they  have  in  them,  the  more  noise  they  make  in  pouring  out. 

POPE. 

So  in  the  grave  shall  we  as  quiet  lie, 
Miss'd  by  some  few  that  loved  our  company  ; 
But  some  so  like  to  thorns  and  nettles  live, 
That  when  they  perish  none  for  them  can  grieve. 

WALLER.  —  From  the  French. 


OUR   MODERN   ATHENS; 

O  R, 

WHO   IS   FIRST? 


OUR  MODERN  ATHENS  !  great  in  little  things,  — 

In  notions  vast,  whence  pride  exultant  springs ; 

Stuffed  with  great  men  whose  tough  and  hard-worked  brains, 

Ne'er  weary  thinking  with  the  greatest  pains ; 

Known  to  the  world  as  the  fine  city  where, 

Talent  is  cherished  with  the  tend'rest  care ; 

Ilich  in  commerce,  banks,  and  the  art  of  trade, 

Which  cities  build  where  men  their  gold  parade ; 

We  hail  thee  great  in  little  things  and  big, 

When  caution  may  be  used,  yet  cutely  hid ; 

Be  ours  the  task  to  trace  in  jingling  rhyme, 

Thy  snobs  and  worthies  of  the  present  time ;  — 

Be  ours  the  task  to  tell  in  what  thou  art 

Nonsensical,  —  in  what  supremely  smart ; 

To  point  the  eye  to  those  who  rate  as  first, 

And  wield  the  power  of  the  kingly  purse. 

In  days  of  yore,  when  freedom  was  a  joy, 
And  in  sweet  truth  our  fathers  sought  employ,  — 
2 


14  OUR    MODERN 

Living  to  learn  life's  solemn  duties  well, 

Unmixed  with  atheist,  Jew,  or  infidel,  — 

There  was  a  glory  stern  in  Pilgrim  mind, 

In  vain  we  look  in  later  days  to  find. 

Not  that  we  would  in  all  the  Pilgrim  be,  — 

Assume  his  virtues  and  deformity ; 

No ;  but  from  decay  we  would  gladly  save, 

The  manners  plain  that  marked  him  to  the  grave ;  — 

The  honor  true  with  which  he  dealt  with  man, 

And  lived  a  Christian  in  a  Christian  land. 

Unlike  to  these  are  they  who  now  possess, 
The  soil  whereon  a  nation's  birthplace  rests. 
Their  god  is  mammon,  —  their  high  hopes  are  here, 
Where  beef  is  fat,  and  cheap  is  lager  beer ; 
Where  getting  dimes  at  sure  and  rapid  rate, 
Is  deemed  the  freedom  foremost  in  the  State. 
Heaven  may  be,  yet  what  more  bliss  divine, 
Can  mortals  know  "  than  living  to  their  mind," 
Blessed  with  spring  beds,  good  sleep,  and  all  besides,  - 
From  genteel  servants  to  most  genteel  wives  ? 
Merry  they  go,  and  merry,  sometimes  fall ; 
By  "  rushing  business,"  —  'tempting  to  be  "  tall ;" 
But  that 's  no  matter ;  up  they  get  again, 
And  "  at  it  go,"  like  fresh  and  hopeful  men. 

"  Our  Modern  Athens,"  killed  with  pride  and  fuss, 
Is  of  earth  earthy,  —  must  return  to  dust ; 
Then  why  should  she  turn  up  her  attic  nose 
At  other  cities,  which  less  of  thinking  does, 
Of  getting,  keeping,  making  a  fine  show,  — 
Of  learning,  trading,  how  things  aught  to  go  ? 
Our  Boston  Yankee,  like  his  city  grand, 
Is  a  cute,  staid,  and,  O,  most  proper  man ! 


OK,     WHO     IS    FIRST?  15 

If  he  's  to  teach  he  teaches  with  an  air, 

That  signifies  he  'sjirst,  and  dares  compare; 

There 's  no  degree  he  will  accept  but  first ; 

And  sooner  than  be  second  would  be  hers'd, 

For  the  tomb  and  lay  his  insulted  head, 

Amid  the  ashes  of  his  kindred  dead. 

First !  ay,  there  is  no  proper  grade  but  that, 

Which  each  assume,  —  from  genius  to  the  flat ; 

But  not  alone  th'  author  and  pedagogue, 

Would  command  from  men  obedient  nod ; 

This  self-esteem  and  love  of  fame  prevail 

In  quarters  all,  —  each  attic  breast  assail. 

The  boy  with  papers  giving  latest  news, 

"  All  for  one  cent,"  with  ardor  is  infused ; 

He  would  bo  first  to  spread  about  the  town 

Some  murder  horrible  !  —  some  act  profound ! 

His  dirty  face,  his  ragged  clothes,  bare  feet, 

Are  no  embarrassment ;  for  he  's  a  "  Greek  " 

Of  "  Modern  Athens ;"  and  who  dare  dispute, 

His  right  and  title  to  be  Athens  cute  ? 

He  '11  hand  you  papers  of  an  ancient  date, 

Get  his  pay  and  leave  you  to  meditate, 

Upon  the  sell  your  unsuspicious  wit, 

Hinted  to  him  as  a  good  attic  hit. 

These  boys  are  haughty,  and  would  dare  be  first  ; 

Loud  cry  the  news,  and  for  high  knowledge  thirst : 

They  know  that  men  once  shoeless  as  themselves, 

Have  risen  high  by  sixes  and  by  twelves ; 

They  know  "  their  country  is  not  yet  fenced  in ;" 

That  they  may  swell  from  Gotham  to  the  Ind. ; 

Of  "  Modern  Athens,"  too,  that  "  dear,  sweet  spot !  " 

To  be  of  which  is  well,  where'er  our  lot 

Is  cast,  —  whether  'neath  the  warm  tropic  sun, 

'Mid  llussia's  snows,  or  where  action  was  begun. 


16  OUR     MODERN     ATHENS; 

Thus  it  is  plain  that  e'en  the  paper  boy, 
Is  full  o'  attic  vim  and  craves  employ, 
By  which  he  may  ascend  the  steep  of  fame, 
And  write  upon  its  scroll  his  pauper  name.* 
He  would  be  first,  not  merely  with  the  news, 
But  would  control  the  State  !  and  thus  amused, 
Bethink  him  how  he  can  his  trust  abuse, 
So  that  the  people  dear,  though  Argus  eyed, 
May  not  suspect  a  wrong  unrectified. 
He  is  a  rascal !  —  so  his  foes  declare ; 
But  friends,  befooled,  denounce  the  charge  unfair ; 
Not  they  believe  that  such  a  self-made  sage, 
Would  honor  compromise  for  base  'vantage. 
A  man  of  books,  he  has  well  learned  the  way, 
Of  truth,  virtue,  —  from  Plato  down  to  Clay ; 
His  spacious  brain  by  suction  has  obtained 
To  know  the  facts  and  fancies  of  each  reign, 
In  each  kingdom,  since  the  full,  cooling  flood, 
Cleansed  the  earth  of  its  early  lust  and  blood ; 
He 's  sought  to  know,  and  knowing,  has  perceived, 


*  In  thus  alluding  to  the  self-reliance,  energy,  and  audacity  of  those 
who  rise  to  power  by  the  force  of  their  own  wit  and  gumption,  it  is  not 
our  wish  to  be  understood  as  being  condemnatory  of  any  persons  am 
bitious  to  rule  ;  for,  as  we  must  either  lead  or  follow,  it  is  quite  natural 
that  those  who  have  executive  ability  should  desire  to  gain  positions 
where  they  can  make  themselves  felt.  There  can  be  no  objection  to 
this  spirit ;  but  there  may  be  a  very  reasonable  objection  to  the  man 
ner  in  which  advancement  is  obtained  ;  and  here  rests  our  objection. 
We  affirm,  directly  and  without  equivocation,  that  there  is  altogether 
too  much  pushing,  gouging,  and  fraud  on  the  part  of  those  who  are 
identified  with  the  material  interests  of  society,  and  who  seek  both 
public  and  private  stations  of  honor  ;  and  we  furthermore  predict,  that 
unless  a  higher  code  of  morals  obtains,  among  those  who  lead  in 
American  circles,  within  the  present  century  will  begin  the  breaking 
up  of  all  government,  in  this  country,  which  is  based  —  and  alone 
based  —  upon  the  general  public  conscience.  When  justice  becomes 
obsolete,  between  man  and  man,  there  is  no  possibility  that  the  idea 
of  liberty,  as  embodied  in  our  noble  institutions,  can  bo  maintained 
and  carried  out.  This  is  a  self-evident  proposition,  apparent  to  the 
most  superficial  thinker. 


ISFIRST?  17 

The  method  most  judicious  to  deceive ; 

He  would  be  first,  and  so  he 's  climbed  with  care,  — 

Washed  his  dirty  face,  combed  his  matted  hair ; 

Put  on  clean  linen,  clad  his  bootless  feet, 

And  smiles  and  smirks,  as  he  may  deem  discreet. 

Thus  have  we  first  —  the  top  knot  of  the  town  — 

Your  bellowing  newsboy,  —  vender  o'  popped  corn. 

All  hail,  ye  ardent  workers  for  high  place ! 

And  damned  be  he  who  would  deny  thee  grace ; 

Enter  yon  dignified  patrician's  door, 

Whence  thou  'd  been  kicked  when  known  as  meanly  poor ; 

Look  at  his  daughter  fair,  just  ripe  to  pluck  ; 

Demand  her,  sir,  and  note  your  wondrous  luck ; 

Take  her  to  thee,  and  graft  upon  this  stock, 

Thine  own  pure  blood  !  though  flowing  from  a  dock, 

Or  butcher's  stall,  where  nice  calves'  head  and  pluck 

Are  sold  for  nine-pence,  with  a  goose  or  duck, 

Get  the  daughter  of  this  most  vain,  proud  sir, 

And  kill  your  grease  with  Lubin's  lavender ; 

Your  fame  will  help  to  lubricate  your  name  ; 

And  merry  goes  the  day,  while  rank  's  maintained ; 

But  fail,  Sir  Parvenu  !  and  who  can  say, 

Your  wife,  so  proud,  may  not  put  you  out  th'  way, 

To  gain  another,  who  may  chance  retrieve 

What  she  hath  lost  —  in  thee  so  much  deceived ! 

Such  things  have  happened,  where  foul  "  dirt  has  mix'd 

Itself  with  qual'ty;"  and  a  crucifix 

Has  thus  been  reared,  whereon  patrician  name, 

Has  fall'n  a  victim  to  the  thirst  for  fame, 

Above  its  reach  but  snatched  by  some  bold  hand, 

Rising  from  nothing  to  give  high  command. 

In  "  Modern  Athens  "  —  as  in  noted  spots  — 
The  "  blooded  folks  "  will  get  mixed  with  the  outs  ; 


18 


And  when  they  do,  unless  these  outs  are  "  game," 
"  The  road 's  a  hard  one,"  and  a  thorn  is  fame, 
Both  'mong  men  fighting  for  its  possession, 
And  with  wife  at  home,  —  'gainst  her  oppression. 
"  It  was  a  condescension,  sir,  when  I, 
The  dear  loved  daughter  of  Ignatious  Spy,  — 
Whose  lineage  dates  back  to,  I  know  not  where,  — 
Consented  thus  to  merge  my  name  so  fair, 
In  that  of  yours  stained  with  plebean  blood, 
And  ne'er  till  now  'mong  those  of  honor  heard. 
Yes,  sir,  1  feel  within  my  veins  a  fame 
Which  is  above,  beyond,  your  puny  name." 
So  rattles  she,  this  daughter  o'  the  Spys, 
Stuffed  with  foul  pride  and  strangest  fantacies ; 
Her  nose  is  up  at  all  whom  she  suspects, 
Laughs  at  her  nonsense  and  much  disrespects, 
Her  pretence  of  blood,  and  "  all  that  sort  o'  thing," 
Which  brainless  egotists  delight  to  talk  and  sing. 
O,  we  believe  in  blood  !  we  'd  buy  a  bull, 
Or  animal  of  any  kind,  known  to  be  full 
Of  healthy  blood,  and  of  the  soundest  stock  — 
So,  too,  we  'd  deal  with  man ;  and,  pray,  why  not  ? 
Ho  is  an  animal ;  —  has  marked  this  earth 
With  his  tyrant  hoof,  from  its  primal  birth  ;  — 
Marked  it  with  hate,  and  scorn,  and  bloody  death  ;  • 
Tainted  the  air  with  his  perfideous  breath  ;  — 
Throttled  sweet  innocence,  and  scouted  truth, 
To  serve  his  baseness,  —  pander  to  his  mirth. 
O,  yes,  if  worth  there  is  to  his  fallen  soul, 
W'd  put  it  in  a  line  and  let  it  roll, 
Unbroken  down  from  age  to  age,  the  gift 
Of  sturdiest  virtue  —  for  'tis  not  a  myth  ;  — 
It  has  a  being,  though  more  often  found, 
'Mong  those  who  aim  to  do,  with  least  of  sound. 


OR,     WHO     IS    FIRST?  19 

There  are,  in  "  Modern  Athens,"  many  flats, 

Who  talk  of  blood  and  noted  blooded  saps ; 

And  seek  by  talk  to  give  their  name  a  tow, 

0'  honor  to  which  no  record  can  be  borne ; 

They  aim  by  falsehood,  and  by  sheer  pretence, 

Unmerited  to  win  a  consequence  ; 

Hear  aloft  their  heads  and  think  they  tower, 

With  those  who  wield  an  honest  blooded  power. 

They  are  heraldic  quacks,  and  should  be  pushed, 

Out  of  their  falsehoods  to  a  better  use. 

We  believe  in  blood !  we  know  virtue  runs, 

In  certain  courses  as  revolve  the  suns ! 

That  't  is  transmitted  through  unerring  law, 

To  those  evolved  from  out  its  being's  core ; 

But  they,  all  conscious  of  the  gem  that 's  their's', 

Boast  not  its  keeping,  or  its  beauty  wears, 

With  haughty  brow,  but  with  true  dignity, 

Unaw  'd  by  snobs  or  bold  vulgarity  : 

They  pass  through  life  most  faithful  to  their  trust, 

And,  as  they  came,  so  back  return  to  dust ; 

If  mated  they  aim  to  be  equal  matched. 

To  live  in  honor,  and  to  die  attached. 

These  are  aristocrats  we  think  of  need, 

In  "  Modern  Athens  "  if  we  would  be  freed, 

From  a  race  of  mongrels  Jove  only  knows, 

From  whom  and  what  they  got  their  "  upish  nose." 

We  believe  in  blood  ;  we  think  it  sound  sense, 

To  have  faithful  record  of  the  source  whence, 

Our  life  has  come,  our  morals,  and  our  mind, 

To  trace  distinctly  our  ancestral  line. 

It  is  a  good,  it  is  a  noble  thought, 

To  be  in  junction  with  past  ages  brought, 

"  To  feel,  to  see,  to  know,  and  to  possess," 

The  precise  lineage  of  life 's  progress. 


20  OUR     MODERN     ATHENS, 

But  your  pretentious  somebody  who  turns, 
A  dollar  dexterously,  oft  hurls 
Proud  airs  at  those  who  do  not  bend  the  neck, 
Because  he  's  rich,  and  is  with  mammon  decked,  — 
(Knowing  the  means  whereby  he 's  made  a  rise, 
From  some  small  beer-shop  by  the  force  of  lies ; 
Seeing,  too,  he  's  got  a  gaudy  coat  of  arms, 
Not  his  by  right,  but  sweet  stolen  charms, 
Taken  for  show  on  which  he  "  cuts  a  swell," 
With  signet  ring,  or  carriage  and  a  belle,  — 
Some  damsel  pretty  sold  to  him  for  gold, 
Whose  mind  is  bounded  by  her  stylish  home  ! 
Your  "blooded  folks,"  who  are  indeed  a  fact, 
Look  on  and  laugh  at  this  pretentious  pack, 
Of  upstart  money-changers  who  would  be, 
Kings,  in  their  way,  and  o'erride  gentil'ty.) 
They  would  \>Q  first,  and  so  they  are,  indeed ; 
But  last  in  true  refinement,  cultured  breed. 
The  potent  dollar  in  "  Modern  Athens," 
To  all  her  populace  itself  commends  ; 
And  your  fine   monied  man  will  e'er  be  one, 
To  gather  toadies  as  flies  seek  the  sun  ; 
So  he  will  fancy  thus  compass'd,  carressed, 
His  worth  a  treasure  and  his  fame  the  best ; 
'T  is  not  until  he  's  stricken  with  a  blow, 
From  fate  which  stuns  him,  lays  him  humbly  low, 
That  he  begins  to  scent  how  mean  a  man, 
He  is  to  all  who  knew  him  in  command : 
And  e'en  to  those  who  incense  offered  up, 
To  "  his  great  talent,"  drank  his  social  cup  ; 
But  yesterday  first,  to-day  sorrowed  wretch, 
Seeking  to  borrow  —  tumbled  in  the  ditch  ! 

Doth  see  yon  slim  form,  haggered  brow,  wild  eye, 


OR,    WHO    IS    FIRST?  21 

He  once  was  first,  and  lived  expensively  ; 
Gave  sumptuous  dinners,  cracked  clever  jokes, 
And  talked  most  witty  with  the  "  finest  folks." 
He  came  to  Athens  when  a  shirtless  boy, 
And  himself  apprenticed  in  a  snob's  employ ; 
The  snob  was  pleased  with  his  cute  ready  wit, 
And  put  him  forward  as  did  best  befit, 
So  smart  a  chap  whose  head  was  hard  and  clear, 
And  grasped  at  once  the  business  o'  the  year ; 
Could  take  a  tradesman  by  the  button-hole, 
And  sell  him  goods  most  needed  to  be  sold, 
When  he,  the  trader,  did  not  wish  to  buy, 
These  things  put  on  him  by  a  wit  most  sly ; 
He  was  a  chap  who  could  three  columns  add 
Up,  multiply,  subtract,  divide,  and  sad 
Alone  when  some  shaved  fellow  broke  and  paid, 
Sixpence  on  a  dollar,  and  damned  all  trade  : 
Of  great  self-control  ne'er  was  he  in  wrath, 
But  kept  with  nice  prudence  the  pleasant  path, 
Upward  to  mingle  with  Athens'  great  men, 
Punch  them  in  the  ribs  as  one  would  a  friend ; 
He  flourished  for  a  time  while  "  in  feather 
Full,"  and  out  of  hard  and  stormy  weather ; 
But,  when  the  gale  did  come,  k'  it  swept  his  decks, 
Started  his  timbers,"  laid  him  with  the  wrecks, 
Beneath  the  sea  of  fortune,  where  are  placed 
The  lovely,  the  false,  honor,  and  disgrace. 
His  wife  forsook  him,  his  children  turned  'way, 
And  caused  the  sire  to  curse  their  natal  day ; 
Proud  in  spirit,  quite  broken  in  his  heart, 
He  stands  before  you  in  the  drunkard's  part ; 
Not  as  an  actor,  but  as  the  man  himself, 
Who  fears  to  die,  though  life  has  nothing  left, 
To  cheer  his  soul  or  melt  his  hardened  brow, 


22  OUR     MODERN     ATHENS 


Where  once  was  love  and  joy  —  all  vanished  now ; 
"The  first  shall  be  last,  the  last  shall  be  first," 
Saith  holy  writ !  —  Athenians,  heed  that  verse  ; 
And,  when  from  circumstance  ye  are  above, 
The  hard-worked  masses,  think  not  to  approve 
Thy  wisdom,  or  vaunt  thyself  "  born  to  rule," 
For,  e'er  thou  think'st  it,  fate  may  dub  thee  fool ! 
Thy  trappings  costly  unto  others  give, 
Once  spurned  by  thee,  will  never  thee  forgive. 

There  dwells  in  yonder  mansion  formed  of  stone,  — 

Facing  the  East,  —  a  man  of  great  "  back  bone  ;  " 

A  phrase  not  elegant,  but  yet  approved, 

By  Young  America,  that  anti-prude  ; 

"  He 's  made  up  of  money  "  — has  lazy  sons, 

Who  sport  lazy  wives  on  father's  income ; 

Pass  by  th'  common  on  any  pleasant  day, 

And  you  may  see  these  "  silken  jacks  "  at  play ; 

Strutting  about  with  canes  and  knowing  look, 

As  though  each  head  were  a  well  ordered  book ; 

They  've  little  ones,  too,  and  a  carriage  fine, 

Servants  to  follow  —  a  cellar  of  wine, 

Old  as  Methuselah  —  imported  for, 

Their  use  alone  —  mean  drinking  is  a  bore  ; 

These  are  first,  though  how  to  earn  a  dollar, 

They  do  not  know,  't  is  knowledge  so  vulgar ! 

Their  father's  wealth,  amassed  by  rise  in  lands, 

Is  so  convenient,  ready  of  command, 

Why  should  they  perplex  their  "  sweet-scented  heads," 

And  load  with  cares  their  now  delightful  beds  ? 

Why  should  they  "  with  the  vulgar  rabble  mix," 

And  turn  a  penny  by  th'  rule  o'  three  or  six  ? 

They  don't  like  tofiyure,  save  on  the  road, 

At  Newport  or  Nahant,  at  Rome  or  llhodes  ; 


OR,     WHO     IS     FIRST?  23 

They  're  first !  figure  else  they  might  come  last, 

And  with  other  saps  to  oblivion  pass. 

We  would  not  handle  roughly  these  "  nice  men," 

Who  crawl  through  life  as  easy  as  they  can ; 

Yet,  we  should  prove  but  a  careless  critic, 

To  fail  to  notice  their  position  civic ; 

They  're  first ! !  they  rank  among  the  leading  ton  — 

To  drink  their  wine  and  claim  their  tongue, 

Would  be  to  pass  as  something  more  than  that, 

Which  gains  you  entrance  to  Mr.  Peter  Pat's  ; 

For  Peter,  though  a  man  of  generous  parts, 

Is  not  a  patron  of  the  finest  arts,  — 

That  is,  he  buys  a  painting  now  and  then, 

And  "  takes  a  drink  "  with  noble-hearted  men  ; 

But  he  does  not  pride  himself  on  greatness, 

Nor  sport  a  carriage  in  his  kids  and  best ; 

He  has  a  wife,  but  she,  good  soul  is  pleased, 

To  dress  in  calico,  and  live  at  ease  ; 

She  knows  enough  ;  she  '11  talk  all  day  with  you, 

In  any  language  —  on  any  subject,  too  ; 

She  's  not  abashed  because  her  husband  says, 

"  Laura,  my  dear,  to  me  it  oft  appears, 

We  're  poor  in  comparison  to  those  snooks, 

With  perfumed  whiskers  and  well  polished  boots." 

She  laughs,  and  says,  "  My  darling  husband,  know 

That  I,  your  Laura,  with  you  dare  to  go, 

In  any  presence  great  soe'er  its  mine 

Of  learning,  or  of  trade-begotten  coin  ; 

Ideas,  my  love,  they  are  our  forte,  and  who 

Can  outface  knowledge  or  its  strength  undo ; 

We  may  not  rank  us  first  amid  that  band, 

Of  hardened  sinners  taxed  on  stocks  and  land ; 

But  in  the  wealth  of  virtue  and  of  soul, 

We  sum  a  figure  greater  than  their  whole." 


24  0  II  R     M  0  D  E  R  N 

Though  "  Modern  Athens  "  may  give  loudest  praise, 

To  those  who  tread  successful  mammon's  ways, 

She  yet  can  feel  and  yet  can  cherish  mind, 

That  scorns  to  worship  lucre,  and  to  find, 

In  its  sensual  pleasure  that  keen  joy, 

Which  many  know  in  having  its  employ  ; 

She  yet  can  love  the  student  and  the  man, 

Whose  soul  expansive  spurns  the  trading  band, 

Of  tricky  merchants  whose  sole  aim  is  gold, 

Getting  into  place, —  gaining  the  control, 

Of  material  interests  which  debase, 

The  heart  and  its  divinity  deface  ; 

She  yet  can  feel  how  noble  is  that  life, 

Which  asks  but  little  from  the  world's  mean  strife, 

Of  passions  poised  with  deadly  aim  and  scope, 

To  beat  down  justice  and  to  o'ercome  hope  ; 

She  yet  can  know  how  noble  't  is  to  be, 

A  freeman  true  —  the  guard  of  liberty  ! 

First,  0,  first !  that  is  the  great,  grand  idea, 

On  which  "  Modern  Athens  "  doth  boldly  rear, 

Its  haughty  crest  steeped  in  satanic  pride, 

Which  damns  all  union,  and  all  hearts  divide* 

*  "  In  the  foregoing  vision,  I  saw  everything  just  as  you  all  will  per 
ceive  forms  and  objects,  with  the  penetrating  eyes  or  senses  of  the 
spirit,  after  you  have  passed  away  from  the  body,  at  physical  death. 
It  was  very  beautiful  to  see  everything  clothed  with  an  atmosphere. 
And  in  each  mineral,  vegetable,  and  animal  I  saw  something  of  man  ! 
In  truth  the  whole  system  of  creation  seemed  to  me  like  the  fragments 
of  human  beings.  In  the  beaver  I  saw  one  faculty  of  the  human  mind  ; 
in  the  fox,  another  ;  in  the  wolf,  another  ;  in  the  horse,  another  ;  in 
the  lion,  another  ;  and  so,  throughout  the  entire  mass  of  the  spirally 
progressive  and  concentric  circles  of  mineral,  vegetable,  and  animal 
life,  I  could  discern  certain  relationships  to,  and  indications  of,  man. 
Had  I  then  possessed  the  language,  I  could  have  truthfully  exclaimed, 
in  the  words  of  the  poet  psalmist, 

*  Herbs  gladly  cure  our  flesh,  because  that  they 

Find  their  acquaintance  there. 

*  *  •»<  *  * 

All  things  unto  our  flesh  are  kind.' 

Understood  in  this  high  sense,  how  instructive  and  appropriate  was 


OR,     WHO     IS     FIRST?  25 

Tom  Jones  and  Ned  Smith  were  friends  till  proud  Tom, 

Was  lucky  and  got  a  "  fine  smashing  run, 

Of  paying  trade,"  that  gave  to  him  the  means, 

Of  dining  on  rare  birds,  'stead  of  pork  and  beans  ; 

He  's  now  first !  and  Smith  "  may  go  where  he  will ;  " 

Tom  's  in  another  sphere,  Smith  's  vulgar  still  ; 

Tom  has  forgot  his  friend  's  an  honest  man, 

Worthy  to  share  his  luck,  with  him  to  stand  ; 

No,  no,  that  won't  do  —  proud  Tom  Jones  is  first, 

He 's  now  a  Banker,  visits  Madam  Curse  ; 

For  him  to  carry  up  a  long  tried  friend, 

Would  not  be  usual,  might  strangely  end  ; 

Smith  might  put  himself  where  Mr.  Jones  would  be, 

Chief  in  command,  and  from  all  Smiths  be  free  ; 

No,  no ;  to  get  up  among  the  first  is, 

Something  done  which  the  world  greatly  prizes ; 

Jones  can't  afford  to  dispense  equalt'y ; 

'T  would  be  vulgar  —  not  in  conformity 

To  genteel  usage ;  and  Jones  would  be  true, 

To  what  he  deems  his  new  position's  due. 

Thus  may  be  seen  how  snobs  engendered  are,  — 

The  warm  solicitude  and  tender  care, 


Peter's  vision  (related  in  the  10th  chapter  of  Acts),  in  which  he  saw 
a  great  white  sheet  let  down  from  heaven,  containing  all  manner  of 
four-footed  beasts,  creeping  things,  &c.,  and  was  told  to  slay  and  eat. 
All  this  was  simply  saying  thus  :  —  '  Peter,  thou  needest  not  feel  too 
exclusive,  too  partial,  too  aristocratic,  too  high  minded,  and  above 
the  meanest  of  thy  fellow-men,  nor  yet  above  the  little  worm  that 
crawls  beneath  thy  feet  ;  for  behold,  thou  art  related  to  every  four- 
footed  beast  and  creeping  thing  that  the  Lord  has  made.  Acknowl 
edge,  therefore,  thine  universal  relationships  and  sympathies,  and  be 
lenient  to  every  thing  that  lives.'  There  are  too  many  that  need 
Peter's  lesson.  They,  like  him,  shrink  from  this  new  method  of  trac 
ing  out  their  genealogy  and  ancestral  derivations,  and  say  they  are 
not  used  to  eating  '  unclean  things.'  But  the  time  is  fast  approach 
ing  when  mankind  will  feel  their  oneness  with  nature  and  with  na 
ture's  God,  to  the  total  annihilation  of  all  narrow-mindedness  and 
empty  superficiality."  —  THE  GREAT  HARMONIA. 

3 


OUR     MODERN 

They  meet  from  those  in  sympathy  with  things, 

Of  human  shape  but  most  inhuman  whims ! 

We  sorrow  thus  to  write ;  —  we  keenly  feel, 

Howe'er  that  duty  bids  us  to  reveal, 

The  rot  that  festers  round  the  heart  of  life, 

And  needs  the  cleansing  of  th'  dissecting  knife. 

We  scorn  the  mean,  the  coward  sneak  and  fool, 

Who  puts  on  airs  because  't  is  his  to  rule ; 

We  know  no  honor  in  the  name  of  first, 

'Less  station  is  applied  to  honor's  use ; 

If  men  do  toil  for  power  but  to  press 

Dependents,  and  to  jeer  at  their  distress, 

We  say  the  time  has  come  when  hope  is  o'er,  — 

In  human  love  and  truth  a  trust  no  more. 

When,  0  when,  will  that  happy  day  arrive, 

When  right  shall  triumph,  —  naught  the  mind  divide  ! 

When  man  to  man  shall  bear  a  brother's  love, 

And  seek  to  do  what  conscience  may  approve  ? 

When  all  shall  be  advanced,  —  considered  first ! 

And  nature  cease  to  groan  'neath  Eden's  curse. 

There  are  in  "  Modern  Athens  "  many  hearts, 
That  beat  responsive  to  most  gen'rous  parts ; 
We  meet  them  daily  in  our  wonted  walks, 
And  love  to  ponder  o'er  their  noble  thoughts, 
Expressed  in  works  that  will  long  point  to  them, 
As  nature's  true  and  honored  noblemen  ! 
They  are  first !  o'er  all  the  world  such  mind  is 
Foremost  in  deeds  of  courtesy,  —  with  ease 
Projecting  plans  of  charity  and  worth, 
To  human  int'rests  o'  ev'ry  form  on  earth ; 
They  live  for  usefulness,  —  to  please  their  God  ; 
To  double  the  talents  he  did  accord, 
To  them  expectant  of  a  full  return, 


OR,     WHO     IS    FIRST?  27 

That  they  eternal  blessings  shall  have  earned, 
From  him,  the  King  of  kings !  above  all  forms, 
Creator  vast,  whom  boundless  law  informs ;  — 
We  meet  them  in  our  walks,  and  feel  a  pride, 
That  in  "  Modern  Athens  "  wit  doth  abide, 
Not  pointed  merely  to  the  goal  of  first, 
But  eager  to  mitigate  th'  primal  curse,  — 
To  do,  to  be,  in  ail  things  great  and  just, 
In  sympathy  with  all,  from  last  to  first  ! 
They  are  first !  and  tho'  unpossessed  of  gold, 
Would  still  be  first  in  purpose  and  in  soul. 

Behold  that  bald,  gray-headed  patriarch, 
In  form  erect,  with  eye  deep-set  and  dark ; 
The  "  soul  of  honor,"  and  the  pride  of  men, 
He  numbers  quite  full  four  score  years  and  ten  \, 
Soon  must  the  grave  close  o'er  his  earthly  frame, 
And  happier  scenes  invite  to  nobler  aim, 
Than  can  be  followed  in  this  darkened  sphere, 
Where  chanye  and  meanness  burden  ev'ry  year. 
Gifted  in  knowledge,  guide  of  youth  and  age, 
Old  Harvard's  ex-president,  warm  friend,  sage, 
Past-mayor  of  Athens  !  whose  dauntless  will, 
Gave  her  a  market ;  so,  too,  th'  poor  from  ill, 
Shielded  with  an  Ajax'  resistless  force, 
And  onward  bore  the  city  in  its  course, 
Of  new  tried  government  through  much  of  fire, 
That  passion  kindled  with  a  wild  desire. 
All  honor  to  his  mem'ry !  o'er  his  grave, 
May  roses  bloom  by  th'  weeping  willow's  shade. 
Stately  in  form,  with  sound  and  piercing  wit, 
Th'  son  is  worthy  in  father's  place  to  sit,  — 
Ready  at  dinner  with  savans  to  blaze, 
In  th'  radiant  lustre  of  ac'demic  rays, 


28  OUR     MODERN 

Or  'mong  men  of  meaner  parts  to  play, 

At  bus'ness  —  from  politics  to  railway  : 

It  matters  not  to  him  where  he  drops  in, 

He  's  sure  to  deal  his  easy  wit  and  win  : 

He  walks  and  looks  the  sense  that  girts  his  brain ; 

In  conversation  free,  in  manners  plain,  — 

Honored  by  Athens,  worthy  to  bear, 

His  classic  name,  and  father's  fame  to  share. 

These  are  first !  and  proud  Athens  knows  it  too, 

Though  sometimes  lax  in  giving  worth  its  due. 

To  such  as  these  she  owes  her  note  abroad, 

The  first  in  all  things,  —  money,  pen,  and  sword  ! 

When  merchants  cute  by  artful  traffic  mount, 

High  on  'change  and  hard  dollars  grandly  count ; 

They  should  bethink  them  not  in  money  is, 

The  awful  grandeur  Gas-bag  fancies  his. 

No,  no ;  Gas-bag  is  befooled,  —  his  success 

In  trade,  or  what-not,  has  so  dispossess'd 

His  better  nature  (if  e'er  one  he  had), 

Of  generous  culture,  that  his  English  bad, 

Refuses  carriage  of  all  thoughts  but  those, 

"Which  shave  the  notes  alike  of  friends  and  foes ; 

He  is  so  pleased  to  see  his  children  bow, 

To  all  above  him,  but  no  one  below ;  — 

Yet,  when  he  thinks  he 's  not  exactly  first, 

He  damns  all  trade,  —  sighs  o'er  deceptive  purse,  — 

Goes  to  his  God,  —  kneels  in  most  humble  prayer, 

For  pardon  sweet  for  thinking  gold  so  fair ! 

And  so  they  go,  in  "  Modern  Athens  "  fine, 

Who  hope  to  triumph  by  jew'lry  and  wine, 

Fine  houses,  horses,  fat  wives  and  girls, 

Whose  nights  are  wakeful  keeping  hair  in  curls,  — 

Whose  stomachs  tender  have  pouched  'on  their  hearts, 

'Till  a  lover  is  as  they  would  a  tart, 


FIRST?  29 

Or  cream,  or  any  other  juicy  bit, 

Of  fashionable  and  taking  sweet-meat. 

The  vainest  they  of  all  the  fools  in  town, 

Wriggling  through  the  street  girt  in  whalebone, 

Or  steel,  or  brass,  or  substance  quite  well  known, 

To  shopmen  who  live  by  noting  o'  these  first, 

That  they  may  learn  to  ope  their  tight-closed  purse. 

Poor  things !  they  want  husbands,  but  mama,  pa, 

Seek  to  purchase  name  shining  from  afar ! 

Which  doth  promise  if  they  could  but  get  it, 

A  trade  superlative  —  a  splendid  profit ; 

They  want  their  sons  and  daughters  to  mount  high, 

And  though  they  're  first !  they  ought  not  to  rely, 

On  their  position  'till  annexed  to  those, 

Whose  blood  and  brains  are  equal  to  all  foes. 

And  so  it  goes,  and  so  the  brassy  rich, 

Give  themselves  airs  —  a  certain  kind  of  hitch  — 

Which  'notes  them  first,  but  last  in  all  that 's  high ; 

Above  the  region  of  counters,  soap,  and  dye : 
They  go  abroad,  in  foreign  lands  to  roam,* 
When  their  country's  fame  bids  them  stay  at  home ; 
Unlettered  and  untaught  in  all  that 's  trice, 
They  cut  such  figure  as  loud  peacocks  do, 
With  spread  tails  on  a  damp  and  cloudy  day, 
With  none  to  applaud  their  fine  vain  display ; 
They  hurry  off  and  hurry  home  content, 

*  It  is  proverbial,  that  of  the  number  of  Americans  who  go  abroad 
every  year,  comparatively  few  are  enabled  to  associate  with  the  higher 
circles  of  Europe,  with  any  credit  to  American  culture  and  manners. 
We  are  a  nation  of  money-changers  and  shop-keepers  ;  and,  of  course, 
when  thrown  into  countries  where  education  is  thorough,  and  is  a 
supreme  science,  our  deficiencies  are  most  glaring.  It  is  not  that  we 
lack  men  and  women  of  a  high  grade  of  culture  (for  we  have  an 
abundance),  but  they  are  not,  as  a  rule,  blessed  with  the  means  of 
going  abroad  ;  —  they  have  no  goods  to  buy,  or  in  any  manner  are 
concerned  with  such  business  as  carries  your  pushing  gain-loving 
character  into  foreign  lands. 

3* 


30  OUR    MODERN     ATHENS; 

To  have  bolted  through  th'  august  continent, 

Where  history  points  to  many  noble  themes, 

And  deepest  natures  lose  themselves  in  dreams. 

If  they  stand  in  Rome  in  view  of  the  decay, 

Which  there  is  present  of  her  earliest  day, 

When  th'  Caesars'  arms  bore  undisputed  sway, 

From  India's  shores  to  stormy  Biscay's  bay  — 

They  say,  "  Why,  how  strange  !  I  wish  I  was  home, 

Where  things  look  new,  and  folks  are  better  known ; 

I  wish  I  was  where  I  could  not  see  so, 

Much  of  wretchedness  and  of  classic  woe ; 

It  grieves  me  much  to  feel  with  time  has  come, 

This  gloomy  present  of  tobacco,  rum  ; 

And,  though  I  know  there 's  a  sort  o'  glory  here, 

I  must  go  home,  where  all  things  new  appear ;" 

They  prefer  a  freshness  —  that 's  the  good, 

For  which  they  live, — for  which  they  would  be  wooed ; 

And  "  Modern  Athens  "  doth,  through  these  obtain, 

In  foreign  parts,  no  enviable  name ; 

But  they  will  travel,  —  they  're  first,  and  must  see, 

How  people  look  beyond  the  dark  blue  sea ; 

Arid  then,  too,  what  are  folks  who  've  not  been  abroad, 

Supped  with,  or,  smelt  of,  some  mean  brainless  lord  ? 

What  are  folks  who  can't  talk  of  shaking  hands, 

With  London  Cocknies,  or  Parisian  bands, 

Of  perfumed  Gallics,  full  of  toads  and  rats, 

With  legs  like  lobsters,  and  with  eyes  like  cats  ? 

Tis  so  delightful  to  come  home  and  feel, 

Raised  in  the  toe  —  still  higher  in  the  heel  — 

By  having  brushed  up  'gainst  these  foreign  bodies, 

Bored  to  death  by  swarms  of  Yankee  toadies  ! 

O,  money  !  what  a  sweet,  consoling  fact, 

To  carry  thee,  though  heavy  to  the  back, 

Since,  if  we  do  in  all  things  play  the  fool, 


OR,     WHO     IS    FIRST?  31 

We  yet  may  "  go  it,"  —  yet  may  claim  to  rule ! 
And  there  are  those  by  scores  in  our  Athens, 
Who,  whilst  disgusted,  yet  endure  the  men, 
Whose  riches  are  applied  to  uses  base, 
And  but  for  riches  would  find  lowest  place, 
In  social  scale  to  be  their  proper  sphere, 
Where  vulgar  nonsense  claims  not  virtue's  tear. 

In  "  Modern  Athens  "  though  wealth  is  supreme, 
And  they  are  worshiped  who  secure  its  cream, 
By  ev'ry  rank,  from  scholar  to  bootblack, 
Waiting  maiden  long  looking  for  a  Jack, 
To  mount  his  back  and  ride  through  life  a  jade 
Of  note,  by  spending  more  than  Jack  has  made  !  — 
In  "  Modern  Athens  "  though  the  rich  thus  bear, 
Away  the  palm  of  notice  and  have  care, 
Bestowed  upon  their  imperial  nod,  — 
They  are  not  quite,  though  almost,  near  a  god  !  * 
What 's  he  ?  he  !  why,  sir,  he 's  a  monied  man ; 
Mark  his  air,  sit  not  when  you  see  him  stand ; 
He  holds  the  kingly  purse  —  is  mammon's  slave, 
Bears  chains  he  courts,  as  th'  battle-field  the  brave ; 
Wait  on  his  eye,  anticipate  his  will, 
Know  that  the  frown  of  mammon's  slave  may  kill, 
Ay,  crush  out  the  heart,  darken  o'er  the  brain, 
And  blast  an  intellect  great  in  the  domain, 
Of  majestic  science  which  opens  to  the  view, 
Th'  grand  arcana,  the  beautiful  and  true, 

*  Our  allusion  here  is  to  those  men,  who,  upon  the  bare  possession 
of  money,  assume  to  be  the  equals,  if  not  superiors,  of  scientific  and 
thoroughly  educated  men  and  gentlemen.  They  are  individuals  who 
lose  no  opportunity  of  turning  a  dollar,  and  will  have  the  "  pound  of 
flesh  "  as  denominated  in  the  bond.  We  have  no  words  strong  enough 
to  convey  our  contempt  for  such  specimens  of  man,  whom  Jesus,  when 
upon  earth,  found  in  the  temple  of  the  Lord,  engaged  in  traffic,  from 
whence  he  drove  them. 


32  OUR     MODERN     ATHENS; 

Uniting  in  the  essence  of  that  soul, 

From  which  evolved  this  complex  lofty  whole ; 

Yes,  oft  hath  the  brutal  power  of  mammon, 

Fell  like  a  thunderbolt  upon  some  son, 

Of  meditative  genius  and  his  mind, 

Sensitive  and  haughty  and  unresigned, 

Shattered  as  some  fine  kingly  forest-tree, 

Torn  from  its  earth  and  cast  upon  the  sea, 

To  float  where'er  the  restless  tide  may  sweep, 

Till  lost  forever  in  the  mighty  deep. 

We  would  soon  stay,  had  we  the  force  required, 

This  love  of  riches,  howsoever  acquired, 

And  backward  drag  the  godless  hardened  mind, 

To  more  of  chivalry  and  less  of  crime  : 

We  need  in  "  Modern  Athens  "  more  of  soul, 

Which  yerfrous  culture  and  hiyh  heart  enfold  : 

The  intellect  though  steeped  in  classic  lore, 

Without  noble  impulse  indeed  is  poor ; 

"  A  poor  white  man,"  we  say,  when  one  of  note, 

Will  Jew  his  tailor  needy  on  a  coat, 

Or  dine  his  wife  and  children  off  of  beans, 

While  he  gets  best  of  wine,  rarest  birds,  greens, 

At  "  crack  hotel,"  famed  for  its  fine  larder, 

And  youths  of  promise  backed  by  doting  father. 

Too  many  of  our  first  are  known  as  mean, 

And  though  quite  attic,  are  by  no  means  clean ; 


*  "  Thus  the  prophet  inflameth  himself,  and  stirreth  up  his  faith 
for  our  example,  that  we  likewise  should  magnify  the  blessings  and 
good  gifts  of  God  in  us,  and  also  our  hope  and  trust  in  him  ;  for  if 
the  rich  men  of  the  world  do  glory  in  their  money,  —  if  they  vaunt  of 
their  wealth  and  riches,  —  why  should  not  we,  also,  glory  in  the  trust 
and  confidence  we  have  in  God,  which  hath  made  heaven  and  earth, 
—  which  hath  also  in  his  hand  all  things  necessary  both  for  this  life 
and  for  the  life  to  come  ?  But  because  these  things  are  invisible,  and 
cannot  be  seen  but  with  spiritual  eyes,  therefore,  we  commonly  neglect 
them."  MARTIN  LUTHEK. 


OR,    WHO    IS    FIRST?  33 

They  like  not  Spantan  broth,  yet  they  would  fill, 

Their  kindred's  stomachs  with  this  mess  of  ill. 

For  God's  sake  let  us,  if  we  are  a  class 

Of  Yankees,  which  all  other  men  surpass 

Be  liberal,  kind,  and  with  our  learning, 

Prove  our  hearts  with  brother's  love  are  burning. 

Love,  O,  love !  that  was  God's  dear  gift  to  man, 

When  Jesus  Christ  the  Lord,  of  Bethlehem, 

Came  in  the  garb  of  a  mendicant  seer, 

To  teach  the  doctrine  of  a  brother's  tear  : 

Love,  O,  love !  that  is  the  great  need  of  life, 

The  only  safeguard  from  remorseless  strife. 

In  "  Modern  Athens,"  if  we  would  be  first. 

Our  aim  should  be  to  mitigate  the  curse, 

Which  came  with  woman  and  dwells  most  with  her ; 

For  e'en  now,  as  erst,  she  doth  sin  prefer ; 

She  must  have  her  love  and  he  must  do  that, 

The  serpent  whispers  beneath  her  night-cap. 

She  '11  lay  and  think  and  in  the  morning  Joe, 

Will  have  his  orders  how  he  is  to  go ; 

Two  hundred  dollars,  or  five  hundred,  as 

The  case  may  be  is  wanted,  and  she  says, 

"  I  'm  a  lady,  Joe,  must  dress  and  visit ; 

The  cash  must  come  from  you,  or  I  '11  get  it, 

From  my  circle  where  there 's  wit  enough, 

To  prize  my  charms,  and  fill  my  coffers  up  !  " 

So  Joe  alarmed  lest  his  sweet  lady  Eve, 

Should  play  the  wanton  and  his  bosom  grieve, 

Goes  to  his  ofiice  and  though  "  short  of  funds," 

Sends  the  amount  to  dear  Mistress  Duns. 

He  thinks  himself  beloved,  but,  oh  !  how  plain, 

A  tender  spot  is  lodged  in  his  back  brain  ! 

And  she,  this  vixen,  who  has  him  by  the  ears, 


34  OUR     MODERN     ATHENS; 

Sees  his  weakness  —  practices  on  his  fears. 

O,  wedded  life  !  0,  love  !  O,  woman  true ! 

How  sweet  to  dally  and  to  be  with  you ! 

Our  fine  "  Modern  Athens  "  can  count  by  scores, 

These  dashing  females  and  consummate  bores ; 

Who  flount,  and  flirt,  and  put  on  "  upish  airs," 

Claim  to  be  first  —  and  so  they  are  in  cares  ; 

They  have  so  much  to  think  of —  babies  out 

To  board  —  and  dressing  to  travel  about, 

In  all  directions  to  glean  the  fashions, 

And  to  keep  well  oiled  the  wildest  passions,  — 

To  play  with  Dick's  whiskers,  Harry's  sweet  lips, 

And  to  pass  from  ecstasies  into  fits. 

It  will  be  so,  and  men  who  take  to  wives, 

Bare  thus  their  bosoms  to  the  keenest  knives, 

That  hack  and  cut  for  pastime  husband's  peace, 

Though  kindly  always  without  stint  or  cease 

We  pity  men,  and  yet  they  get  their  due, 

In  "  going  it  blind,"  when  women  are  so  few ; 

Tawdry  things  there  are  thick  as  summer  flies, 

With  padded  bosoms  and  artistic  eyes ; 

They  won't  work  but  they  '11  marry  and  exist, 

On  the  hard  earnings  of  "  sweet  husband's  "  fist, 

So  long  as  stands  his  dear  health  and  credit; 

These  gone,  and  my  lady  makes  a  visit, 

"  Where  folks  are  smart,  and  can  go  right  ahead, 

Without  talking  poverty  —  want  of  bread." 

But  these  are  not  women  —  they  are  beings 

Sprung  of  fungi,  and  with  fungi  teems. 

A  woman  is  a  principle !  and  she, 

Is  true  to  her  true  love,  eternally ! 

Through  sickness  and  distress  —  through  bliss  and  woe, 

Her  heart  is  constant,  —  with  her  love  doth  go  ! 


OR,     WHO     IS     FIRST?  35 

To  lowliest  hovel,  or  to  farthest  land, 

Happy  to  be  where  duty  bids  her  stand. 

We  'd  trust  a  woman !  and  we  know  if  bliss, 

Upon  this  sad  chaotic  earth  exist, 

'T  is  only  found  in  her  delightful  soul, 

When  linked  with  one  that  forms  a  perfect  whole  ! 

But  the  men  of  "  Athens  "  —  some  men,  at  least, 

Fail  to  perceive  wherein  consists  their  peace ; 

And  "  smashed  by  a  beauty,"  got  up  for  sale, 

Put  their  "  foot  in,"  and  then  the  trap  bewail : 

There  's  not  a  party,  or  a  ball,  or  hop, 

Where  some  green  swain  is  not  by  Nancy  got ; 

She  has  set  her  trap  she  has  caught  her  man, 

While  lovelier  maidens  in  the  background  stand ; 

And  as  she  's  caught  an  eel  it  is  no  sin, 

She  thinks  to  roast  him,  or  to  peel  his  skin ; 

At  all  events  she  's  bound  to  "  eat  him  up," 

Again  set  her  trap  and  so  on  conduct, 

Until  her  heartless  days  run  out  and  none, 

Are  found  to  'wail  the  setting  of  her  sun  ; 

She  dies  and  passes  to  the  throne  on  high, 

Of  wretched  conscience,  spurned  of  Deity ! 

Oh,  "  Modern  Athens  "  !  would  all  thy  fair  knew, 

As  women  wise  when  well  it  is  to  woo ! 

Let  commercial  Tom,  or  bold  lawyer  Jim, 

Attempt  with  lucre  her  pure  heart  to  win ; 

And  she,  untouched  by  any  nobler  thought, 

Scouts  the  presumption  that  she  can  be  bought : 

Not  she !  she  can  love,  but  cannot  traffic 

In  marriage  —  it  hath  no  charm  or  profit, 

In  her  sweet  sense  of  truth  and  purity, 

Unsanctified  by  holy  unity. 

When  she  weds  there  is  resistless  power, 


26  OURMODERN 

By  Jove  ordained  binding  to  another ; 
And  that  union  formed  in  fear  and  love  o'  God  ! 
Insures  a  friendship  lasting,  deep,  and  broad ; 
No  storms  can  shake  it  no  affliction  bend, 
But  she  through  life  is  still  devoted  friend. 
Delightful  woman  !  thy  smile  when  honest, 
Is  high  manhood's  prize  chosen  as  the  best ! 
Thy  holy  feet  through  "  Athens  "  daily  tread, 
And  truth's  sweet  chaplet  circles  o'er  thy  head ; 
Thine  eyes  are  modest  and  thy  mien  is  mild, 
For  thou  art  virtue's  dear  and  saintly  child ! 
Thy  vision  sweeps  eternal  life  of  mind, 
And  earth  doth  seem  a  vapor  in  its  time ; 
Thy  love  is  not  this  sphere,  nor  its  vain  pomp, 
With  thee  is  conscience !  with  the  eagle  mounts, 
Thy  soaring  spirit  to  the  mountain  clifts, 
Away  from  heartless,  proud,  and  godless  cits : 
In  thee  is  greatness !  thou  indeed  art  first ! 
Above  beyond  the  snobish  sneer  of  purse ;  — 
Money  !  —  what  gold  can  buy  thee  ?  what  sap  win 
Thy  peerless  bosom  —  thy  angelic  being  ? 
Cast  in  a  mould  —  tempered  high  with  brave  will, 
No  snob  can  bend  thee,  no  fop's  beauty  kill : 
Thou  art  a  woman !  and  "  Athens'  "  true  men, 
Doth  love  thy  influence,  and  mourn  thy  end ; 
The  roof  that 's  thine,  the  grave  wherein  doth  lie, 
Thy  gentle  form  are  dear  to  manhood's  eye  : 
Sweet  flowers  for  thee  is  but  sweet  to  sweet, 
Thy  grave  the  spot  where  virtue's  pilgrims  meet. 

Who  then  is  first,  and  who  is  not  the  ton, 
May  be  perceived  as  we  run  jingling  on. 
Thus  far  we  've  said  but  little  of  that  class, 
O'  "  mutual  admirers  "  led  by  a  man, 


OR,     WHO     IS     FIRST?  37 

Small  in  stature  but  great  in  learned  soul, 
A  dashing  scholar,  witty,  tart,  and  bold  ; 
He  's  published  books  of  rhyme  wherein  his  face, 
Is  set  with  modest  and  with  classic  grace ; 
He  's  not  a  beauty  though  an  autocrat, 
And  ties  with  neatness  his  nice  silk  cravat ; 
Unlike  i.he  race  of  genius  he  's  precise,  — 
Lives  by  strict  rule,  and  dodges  ev'ry  vice ; 
His  face  is  barbered,  and  his  hair  is  combed ; 
His  feet  neat  clad,  his  look  is  that  of  home ;  — 
That  is,  he  smacks  of  having  bed  and  board, 
On  which  he  may  rely  and  can  afford  ; 
In  this  he  's  more  lucky  than  wits  at  large, 
Whose  home  's  unstable  and  whose  face  is  scar'cl, 
With  disastrous  thought  and  poor  blighted  hopes, 
Of  paying  fame  carved  out  of  heavy  books  ! 
O,  genius  !  one's  heart  it  doth  much  of  good, 
To  note  our  autocrat  taking  to  his  food ; 

To  know  his  stomach  though  bestirred  with  thought, 

With  ease  digests  clams,  pudding,  beef,  and  pork ; 

He  thinks,  yet  he  does  it  up  by  method, 

And  wins  his  laurels  though  he  's  not  slip-shod ; 

He  honors  Socrates,  but  this  sage's  scorn, 

Of  soap,  water,  this  modern  sage  bemournes  ; 

He  must  have  clean  teeth,  clean  shirt,  and  dicky, 

Ere  he  will  teach,  —  be  so  very  witty. 

Set  him  at  a  table  where  he  has  been  asked, 

As  first  of  jokers,  large  as  is  the  class ; 

Get  him  to  talk,  then  give  him  your  ear, 

Though  small  his  stature,  oh,  how  "  tall  "  his  cheer  ! 

We  would  like  to  hit  this  aut'cratic  man, 

By  way  of  practice  to  keep  in  our  hand ; 

But  too  good  natured  he  for  a  roughened  steel, 

And  we  '11  not  stab  where  conscience  would  be  keen ; 
4 


38  OUR     MODERN     ATHENS; 

Yet  must  we  poke  that  dear  mutual  set, 

Who  none  admire,  not  a  fine  classic  pet, 

Or  some  one  who  has  clambered  to  the  top 

Of  getting  —  a  Greek,  so  too  Hotentot, 

By  turns  as  it  may  be  needful  to  explain, 

What  knowledge  vast  one  plodder  may  attain. 

We  are  a  friend  of  learning  and  approve, 

In  all  staunch  healthy  brains  its  ardent  love  : 

Principles  are  Gods !  and  he  who  works  out, 

Th'  greatest  number  is  stoutest  o'  the  stout ; 

Yet  that  aristocracy  of  nice  mind, 

Which  marks  "  our  Athens,"  somewhat  doth  incline, 

To  deify  itself !  and  in  finest  robes, 

To  scorn  all  those  who  less  of  science  knows. 

This  insolence  is  vulgar  and  that  wit, 

Who  thinks  the  "  rnutuals  "  are  only  fit, 

To  come  together  at  the  festive  board 

And  elsewhere  —  deeming  that  my  noble  lord, 

Is  the  title  due  them  from  the  unlettered,  — 

The  wit  we  say  that  thus  presumes  had  better, 

Unlearn  its  wisdom,  lease  itself  to  Sam, 

Or  some  one  else,  who  'II  bring  it  out  a  man ! 

Learning  is  well,  but  when  it  puts  on  airs, 

The  time  has  come  to  tame  these  haughty  bears,  — 

These  animals  in  ribbons  whose  tawdry 

Heads,  are  scorched  with  "  fire  Greek  "  and  vanity  ! 

Methinks  we  see  some  high-flown  learned  fool, 

Viewing  the  crowd  as  th'  master  does  his  school, 

And  with  self-complacent  phiz  loud  declare, 

"  What  a  mass  o'  ignorance  the  people  are !  " 

O  Lord !  haste,  haste,  to  Frenchify  and  Greek 

The  town,  let  ev'ry  Yankee  no  more  speak, 

The  good  old  Saxon  —  turn  at  once  a  calf, 

And  talk  it  foreign,  and  in  classic  laugh  ; 


OK,     WUO     IS    FIRST?  39 

You  '11  then  be  mutuals  and  dine  with  him, 

Who  '11  toast  you  fine  and  "  take  you  kindly  in," 

To  admire  and  praise  your  expanded  wit, 

Pleased  to  be  with  you  —  by  your  side  to  sit ;  — 

O,  Jesu  !  have  mercy  on  the  reign  of  sense, 

Ere  all  are  students  take  us  softly  hence. 

We  want  to  learn  —  we  want  to  idle  too, 

And  keep  our  fat  as  healthy  farmers  do ; 

What 's  brains  without  stomach  to  give  them  strength,   , 

To  bear  noble  thought  and  reach  goal  at  length, 

Where  honor  waits  patient,  where  virtue's  wreath, 

The  brows  bedeck  and  holy  perfume  breathe  : 

We  want  to  learn,  we  want  to  know  enough, 

To  talk  with  statesmen  and  with  black-skined  Cuff; 

But  ambitious  as  we  are  we  would  not, 

In  seeking  learning  be  a  learned  sot. 

Latin  is  well,  so  too  is  Greek  and  French, 

All  is  fine  kowledge,  though  not  finest  sense ; 

We  'd  add  thereto  Dutch,  Spanish,  Italian, 

Sanscrit,  Hebrew,  the  tongue  of  ev'ry  land  ; 

We  'd  tack  on  to  this  nature's  vast  expanse 

Of  facts  —  a  dash  of  logic  —  th'  mode  of  trance ; 

In  fine,  we  'd  tuck  the  brain  so  full  of  truth, 

That  it  should  be  of  God  the  highest  proof; 

But  then  with  all  our  learning  —  modesty  ! 

Should  dwell  with  us,  and  ever  cherished  be. 

Ye  first  of  "  Modern  Athens  "  in  the  lore 
Of  big  books,  say,  are  ye  not  something  poor, 
In  that  better  knowledge  of  the  kind  heart, 
That  wings  no  arrow,  and  that  throws  no  dart? 
If  ye  form  libraries  and  endow  them, 
With  the  master  thought  of  time's  noblest  men, 
Are  ye  not  proud,  and  crusty,  and  in  naught, 


40  OUR     MODERN     ATHENS 


The  type  of  that  these  gifted  authors  taught? 
Whom  ye  have  placed  upon  well-loaded  shelves, 
That  youth  may  garner,  boastful  as  yourselves  !* 
Be  haughty,  cold,  reserved,  and  meanly  wise, 
By  true  men  laughed  at,  ridiculed,  despised. 
We  would  not  strike  too  hard,  but  our  poised  pen, 
Will  not  be  influenced  to  release  an  end, 
In  truth's  imperial  cause,  God's  high  praise, 
Whose  word  denounces  all  in  folly's  ways. 

We  cannot  forget,  we  must  not  pass  by, 
On  learning's  record,  names  not  born  to  die ! 
The  good  and  great,  the  truly  humble  wise, 
Whose  shades  are  with  us  and  whose  love  abides, 
Near  our  hearth-stones  to  glad  each  passing  day, 
And  bear  in  friendship  the  moments  soft  away  : 
They  were  no  fops  nor  vainest  carpet-knights, 
Talking  of  fierce  battles  but  fearing  fights  ; 
They  worked  for  knowledge,  and  they  knew  its  worth, 
The  hard  attainment  of  its  priceless  truth ; 
It  made  them  just,  and  humble,  brave  arid  true ; 
Pleased  to  ayree,  but  stern  in  counter  view  ! 
They  argued  well,  because  their  minds  were  clear, 
Their  knowledge  limpid,  bounding  as  the  deer  ! 
They  saw  the  truth,  and  seized  it  with  a  joy, 
As  marks  the  cheek  of  some  adventurous  boy, 
Who  saves  a  life  from  'neath  the  heaving  wave, 


*  If  we  have  hit  hard  at  this  point,  it  is  because  we  feel  it  to  be 
merited.  Scholars,  as  a  rule,  where  there  is  more  than  ordinary  abil 
ity,  both  in  this  country  and  Europe,  are  stuffed  with  self-conceit  and 
pride.  We  may  excuse  this  in  the  ignorant,  but  in  those  who  have 
studied  the  philosophy  arid  the  lives  of  the  philosophers  of  Greece  it 
is  unpardonable.  What  amount  of  knowledge,  we  should  be  glad  to 
know,  authorizes  a  man,  or  any  class  of  men,  to  put  on  airs,  and  ren 
der  themselves  an  insufferable  nuisance  to  all  not  of  the  same  habits 
of  mind  ? 


OR,     WHO     IS     FIRST.'  41 

And  laughing  goes  to  claim  a  mother's  praise : 
All  honor  to  such  men  —  urned  be  their  dust, 
In  "  Athens  "  proud  the  humblest,  yet  the  first ! 

We  would  now  apply  some  costic  to  such, 

As  talk  a  deal  without  informing  much ; 

They  are  high-pressure,  and  their  "  boilers  burst," 

When  they  attain  to  be  considered  first ; 

That  is,  foremost  among  a  certain  class, 

Where  silks,  broad  cloth,  covers  many  an  ass,  — 

And  many  a  knave  decked  in  finest  clothes, 

Pooh-poohs  at  those  he  now  no  longer  knows  : 

'T  is  well,  it  would  be  quite  unwell  if  fate, 

Should  bar  these  bumpkins  vain  the  name  of  great. 

Mankind  are  only  known  as  thus  they  spring, 

From  close  dirty  allies  into  high  being  ! 

'T  is  then  we  learn  how  toad-stools  may  become, 

Grand  sweeping  trees  by  free  unstinted  sun. 

But  let  them  go  —  they  do  but  play  the  part, 

Assigned  by  nature  foul  —  each  putrid  heart, 

Will  perish  with  its  day  of  sunshine  warm, 

To  make  more  fearful  retribution's  storm. 

Yet  ere  we  leave  this  dear  and  perfumed  class, 
We  must  not  fail  to  tarry  as  we  pass, 
By  yonder  mansion  with  high  steps  of  stone, 
Where  folly  revels  and  where  truth 's  unknown. 

It  is n  Street,  a  fine  and  spacious  walk, 

Where  maidens  gather  with  trig  gents  to  talk ; 
It  is  a  street  long  rented  to  the  mind, 
Least  stupid  and  to  lofty  views  inclined,  — 
It  is  a  street  which  leads  you  out  of  town, 
Direct  and  passes  full  many  a  clown, 
In  gloves,  French  boots,  and  slouchy  Kossuth  hats, 
4* 


42  OUR     MODERN     ATHENS; 

With  heads  well  greased — some-like  to  whiskered  cats. 

O,  Aumioii !  how  smart  these  rag-pickers  feel, 

As  by  they  dash  on  foot,  or  with  the  wheel. 

We  oft  have  stood  against  the  iron  posts, 

To  note  these  mongrels  and  sum  up  their  cost ; 

We  oft  have  wondered  how  in  God's  name  comes, 

So  many  splurgers  and  so  few  of  duns. 

For  most  wives  have !  besides  score  or  two, 

Of  well-kept  beauties  to  arrange  their  shoe, 

If  it  should  pinch  and  call  them  dearest  dear, 

With  other  nonsense  we  '11  not  bring  in  here. 

These  perfumed  upstarts  live  —  they  do,  indeed, 

And  dash  the  rowels  in  their  ill-used  steed, 

Hired  for  the  day  and  driven  for  the  year, 

To  break  up  stables  with  their  smart  career ; 

They  're  first  in  bar-rooms,  brothels,  and  at  clubs, 

And  "play  the  devil,"  looking  staid  as  tubs. 

But  to  our  purpose  of  noting  those  fine 

Folks  on n  Street  who  on  rich  dainties  dine, 

And  ride  'round  "  Athens  "  in  their  stylish  coach, 
With  foreign  dresses  and  large  diamond  broach. 
First  let  us  look  at  "  dear  and  sweet  mamma," 
Whose  face  is  bloated  with  a  bold  heauteur ; 
She  seems  to  say  "  Thank  God  I  was  not  born, 
To  wash  up  dishes,  or  to  pick  a  bone,  — 
Thank  God  that  I  am  first  and  am  of  blood, 
Direct  from  Noah  who  battled  with  the  flood ; 
That  /  at  least  can  boast  lineage  free, 
From  butcher's  coarseness  and  base  harlotry ; 
That  7,  of  "  Modern  Athens,"  bear  a  name 
Equal  to  any,  thpugh  not  o'ertaxed  with  fame." 
This  waddling  woman  old  and  vulgar  too, 
Claims  for  her  money  what  to  worth  is  due ; 
She  "  puts  oil  airs  "  and  clever  shopmen  curse, 


OR,     WHO     IS     FIRST?  43 

If  they  in  haste  attempt  to  ope  her  purse ; 

Where'er  she  goes  she  doth  inform  the  world, 

She 's  Madame  Pride  in  the  line  of  earl, 

And  her  hard  features  steeped  in  pride  and  scorn, 

Doth  threaten  death  to  villains  uncouformed, 

To  her  desires  and  her  imperial  will, 

Which  money  founded  and  gold  pampers  still. 

Her  Dolly  husband  stands  in  awe  of  wife, 

As  helpless  traveller  of  assassin's  knife ; 

He  walks  along  through  "  Athens'  "  winding  ways, 

Dunning  his  tenants  —  he  must  "  make  a  raise ;" 

He 's  made  no  deposits  for  at  least  two  days, 

And  begins  to  think  't  is  much  to  his  dispraise  ; 

Besides  his  son,  the  B ,  is  a  bill, 

Of  expense  endless  —  tending  down  the  hill ; 

He  worked  his  way  to  C 's  heart, 

And  thus  in  law 's  a  son  —  fine  dandy  smart ! 
He  treads  upon  his  toes  and  takes  a  cold, 
From  gentlest  zephyrs !  —  on  dear  life  his  hold, 

Is  weak  and  C often  sighs, 

That  he 's  not  out  o'  the  way  —  since  his  bright  eyes 

Have  faded !  and,  oh  !  she  'e  so  fond  of  change, 

She  'd  fondle  puppies  in  her  endless  range, 

For  novelty  and  all  that 's  soft  and  new, 

From  mush  and  milk  to  a  sweet  apple  stew. 

Dolly  has  son  of  his  own  ilk  but  Home, 

Delights  him  more  than  his  familiar  home, 

"  Where  all  things  are  so  mixed  and  men  of  birth, 

Are  knocked  about  as  though  the  meanest  earth :" 

Bah !  he  would  not  live  at  home,  no,  not  he  ; 

He  hates  the  Union  —  its  democracy ; 

A  brainless  snob  !  he  thinks  to  be  of  note, 

By  going  abroad  and  scorning  Yankee  vote ; 

He  help  to  make  a  President !  he  take 


44  0  U  II     MODERN     ATHENS; 

The  trouble  to  our  public  men  create ! 
The  country  might  explode  ere  he  would  do, 
A  kindness  hearty  for  a  base-born  crew, 
Of  grov'lling  workers  —  worthless  but  to  do, 
Slave's  offices  shout  their  vulgar  doctrine, 
About  equal  birth  —  freedom's  offering  !  " 
No,  no,  your  emigrant  to  "  holy  Home," 
Scornes  to  think  of,  much  less  return  to  home ; 
He  would  be  where  the  grandeur  of  the  past, 
Looms  up  in  splendor  and  marked  contrast, 
With  these  latter  days  so  tame  and  vulgar, 
That  he  doth  wish  the  world  was  rent  'sunder. 

So  thinks  the  brother  of  C dear, 

Flat  as  she,  and  senseless  in  appear. 

The  B married  for  a  tender  home, 

For  means  to  dress,  o'er  foreign  lands  to  roain ; 

He  was  a  handsome  and  a  well-formed  man, 

But  shiftless  as  an  oyster  or  a  clam  ; 

His  glass,  his  sofa,  and  his  cigar, 

Was  more  to  him  than  all  the  world  by  far ; 

His  wife  was  well  enough,  but  she  would  swear, 

And  "  rip  around  "  —  "  pitch  in  "  to  Sappy's  hair  ; 

Until  one  day  poor  Sappy  thought  he'd  die, 

And  leave  a  world  his  needs  could  not  supply. 

His  wife  rejoiced  and  her  proud  mother  laughed, 

Papa  drank  wine  and  Sappy's  fortune  quaffed ! 

"  There  was  a  time  "  and  such  a  time  we  vow, 

As  ne'er  had  happened  for  an  age  till  now ; 

But  no  sooner  deceased  this  soft  Mr.  Jack, 

Than  hops  another  dandy  on  their  back. 

A  younger  daughter  full  of  senseless  love, 

Is  "  smashed  "  by  small  talk  and  a  dainty  glove ; 

She  weds  while  our  G  —       —  giggles, 

For  she  's  grown  wise  in  dear  young  love's  riddles  ! 


OR,    WHO    IS    FIRST?  45 

She 's  had  her  fun  and  knows  what  it  has  cost, 

Has  had  her  chills,  been  nipped  by  "  killing  frost ;" 

But  the  younger  daughter  is  left  to  find, 

Out  wisdom's  narrows  with  the  march  of  time  ; 

And  break  her  neck  if  needful  it  should  be, 

To  light  her  out  to  deep  and  shoreless  sea  ! 

Where  "  love's  young  dream  "  is  tossed  upon  the  wave, 

Till  early  wrecked  it  finds  an  ocean  grave. 

0,  these  are  first ! !  king  money  makes  them  so, 

In  their  grand  train,  bulls,  bears,  and  monkies  go ! 

Thus  we  behold  how  folly  makes  its  way, 

While  truth  dejected  weeps  and  turns  away  ; 

Thus  we  behold  how  poor  a  thing  is  pride, 

When  nonsense  spawns  it,  and  when  meanness  guides ! 

Thus  we  behold  how  "  Modern  Athens  "  teems, 

With  flesh  and  bones  formed  to  petty  beings, 

Who  strut  and  bluster,  sing  of  their  great  worth, 

And  crawl  like  vermin  to  their  native  earth.* 

But  wearied  with  the  softness  of  our  theme, 

We  gladly  leave  it  for  some  other  thing ; 

We  point  to  art !  and  they  who  live  for  it, 

Happy  to  gain  but  not  bent  on  profit,  — 

Unabsorb'd  in  dollars  as  the  trader,  — 

They  grasp  not !  but  their  art's  high  bliss  prefer  ! 

They  work  for  pleasure,  as  much  as  for  coin, 

And  iove  those  best  whose  tastes  with  theirs  conjoin. 

Artistic  genius !  it  is  a  great  gift, 

From  nature  and  doth  on  soaring  wing  lift, 

The  spirit  to  nearness  with  the  Logos, 

Whence  came  sweet  harmony  out  of  chaos. 

*  Some  time  since  the  author  of  this  verse  was  witness  to  conduct 
of  the  most  ridiculous  character  on  the  part  of  this  family,  which  sug 
gested  the  idea  of  this  castigation. 


46  OUR     MODERN     ATHENS 


Would  "  Modern  Athens  "  knew  thy  gentle  love, — 

Would  raise  thee  prostrate  to  a  seat  above, 

The  thoughtless  rabble  whose  "  bread  and  butter," 

Three  meals  per  day  and  extra  cold  supper, 

Is  the  best  good  they  care  to  know  or  aid, 

Though  challenged  to  refinement  by  some  maid, 

In  art  whose  simple  manners  skilful  hand, 

Unite  to  win  the  most  commercial  man ; 

To  teach  him  fondness  for  ideal  commerce, 

For  forms  not  gold  but  valued  as  the  first, 

In  purity  and  all  that  fills  the  soul, 

With  holy  pleasure  and  with  self  controll ; 

For  genius  though  it  may  from  excess  of 

Sentiment,  lose  its  balance  and  befog 

Itself  in  error,  yet,  those  who  study 

Its  pure  works,  will  strengthen  their  moral  force, 

And  'scape  reefs  on  which  genius  'self  is  tost ! 

We  speak  for  art  the  honor  that 's  its  right, 

We  hope  for  artists  something  more  than  night ; 

Day,  bright  day  must  come,  when  they  who  prize  gems 

Of  genius  will  true  genius'  cause  defend ; 

And  art  in  triumph  raise  to  its  high  place, 

Adorned  with  culture  —  ev'ry  classic  grace  ! 

That  time  wilt  come  though  slow  may  be  its  step, 

An'  many  a  tear  by  genius  sad  be  wept,  — 

Unfed,  unhonored,  and  scornful  of  life, 

Borne  down  hard  pressed  by  the  bitterness  o'  strife ; 

Yet  will  noble  art  her  true  sons  secure, 

From  tears  and  begg'ry  when  these  days  are  o'er,  — 

These  days  of  sense,  of  eating-shops  and  cooks, 

Of  wine  and  bibbling  —  illustrated  books. 

And  now  we  pass  to  science  and  proclaim, 
Her  zealous  votaries  full  half  insane. 


OR,     WHO     IS     FIRST?  47 

Truth  !  great  Thor  !  what  is  it  but  a  two-faced  * 

Something,  a  sort  of  Janus  with  less  grace, 

Than  an  ourang-outang  and  as  full  of, 

Mischief  as  a  fresh  virgin  is  of  love. 

In  Law  there  is  no  truth  of  changeless  base, 

Go  to  the  digests  arid  make  out  your  case, 

It  matters  not  how  hard  a  case  it  is, 

Some  Lord  So-and-so  has  ruled  't  is  justice  ! 

By  Heavens  !  't  is  enough  to  make  one  go  mad, 

To  ponder  o'er  man's  reason  dark  and  sad  ! 

To  know  how  frail  the  tenure  of  all  law, 

But  holy  conscience  !  God's  oracle  of  yore. 

Courts  !  they  are  the  sloughs  of  whimsical  thought, 

Swayed  by  wild  genius  for  a  round  fee  bought  : 

Go  not  to  law  unless  you  've  a  purse  full, 

Exhausted  only  by  an  endless  pull. 

We  are  not  "  down  "  on  lawyers  ;  we  know  their 

Troubles,  and  with  what  of  consummate  care, 

They  must  proceed  before  judge,  jury, 

To  gain  a  case  and  be  full  up  to  duty. 

But  we  are  "  down  "  on  the  base  policy, 

Which  complicates  the  law  for  larger  fee  ! 

We  do  not  need  so  much  of  endless  talk 

In  splitting  hairs  !  we  want  clear  honest  thouyht  ! 


*  Truth  in  itself,  pure  and  well  denned,  yields  the  product 
although  in  the  process  momentary  evil  may  be  caused.  We  do  not 
think  that  truth,  being  the  nature  of  God  !  should  ever  be  feared  ;  and 
though  we  have  charged  it  with  mischief,  and  called  it  "  two-faced," 
we  here  speak  of  it  as  we  note  among  human  societies  what  passes  for 
truth,  or  God.  As  our  vision  ranges  over  the  world,  and  peers  also 
into  the  depths  of  space,  comprehending  something  of  the  simplicity 
of  all  those  beautiful  laws  by  which  spirit  and  matter  are  equipoised, 
—  the  Pythagorean  harmony  of  numbers  evolving  the  music  of  the 
spheres  ;  and  from  this  exquisite  union  of  truth  and  peace,  turn  to 
behold  the  strife,  the  wretchedness  of  man,  entangled  as  he  is  by  the 
errors  which  seem  inseparable  from  his  passions  and  physical  neces 
sities,  we  feel  depressed  and  humiliated  at  the  woeful  contrast,  and 
ask  ourself  if  it  is  to  be  thus  forever. 


48  OUR    MODERN    AT  II  ENS; 

The  lawyer  needs  not  for  his  protection, 
The  mists  of  logic,  if  he  is  a  son 
Of  virtue  !  and  if  not  he  should  depart, 
From  his  astute  vocation  which  requires, 
A  soul  of  honor  and  of  chaste  desires. 
In  "  Modern  Athens  "  there  are  civilians, 
Of  noble  purpose  whom  hard  cash  millions, 
Could  not,  howe'er  put  in  pleasing  form,  buy 
To  argue  'gainst  their  conscience  or  to  lie ; 
All  honor  to  their  love  of  sacred  truth, 
Their  care  devoted  in  dissecting  proof: 
They  are  first !  their  holy  names  shall  endure, 
In  legal  forms  till  records  are  no  more. 

We  come  now  to  doctors  —  and,  oh,  Mores  ! 

What  birds  of  prey !  e'en  from  some  Doctor  Breeze, 

Of  latter  times  with  his  patented  pills, 

Which  cure  in  one  instant  all  sort  of  ills, 

Up  to  JEsculapius  the  father 

Of  physic,  pukes,  salves,  enemas,  plaster. 

Get  sick,  and  the  devil  help  you !  doctors 

Wont ;  some  will  —  a  few,  but  they  are  bores ! 

Because  the  poor  they  practice  on, 

To  be  more  skillful  with  the  "  Athens  "  ton ! 

If  you  want  a  doctor  worth  a  sixpence, 

Be  sure  to  live  well  —  with  a  show  of  sense, 

For  he  is  keen  and  if  he  sees  no  pay, 

He  '11  slight  your  case,  or  put  you  out  o'  the  way. 

That  is  the  rule  !  thanks  to  great  Jove !  there 

Are  in  med'cine  many  a  name  that 's  fair, 

Many  a  heart  that  beats  with  human  love, 

In  sweetest  sympathy  with  highest  good, 

To  man  and  all  pertaining  to  his  fame, 

Of  being  cast  the  image  of  that  form, 


OR,     WHO     IS     FIRST?  49 

"Which  guides  the  light'ning  and  commands  the  storm. 
Ttiey  are  first!  "  Modern  Athens  "  knows  them  well, 
And  ev'ry  tongue  their  deeds  of  goodness  tell. 

We  pass  now  to  write  of  that  solemn  crowd, 

Bearing  the  cross  !  and  with  deep  penance  bowed, 

Claiming  to  teach  in  the  Almighty's  name, 

Yet  "  living  like  fighting-cocks  "  and  for  fame  !  * 

There  's  some  who  live  so  —  with  brains  to  do  it,  — 

Those  of  less  talent  —  without  their  wit, 

Must  live  on  husks !  and  be  most  circumspect 

To  live  at  all  —  they  're  not  the  people's  pet. 

And  so  it  goes,  and  so  we  're  crammed  with  talk 

Theologic  —  with  less  of  value  fraught, 

Than  would  be  works,  works,  mighty  works !  we  say, 

That  marked  the  Christians  of  the  early  day. 

Immortal  Jesus !  had  not  where  to  place, 

His  God-head  with  its  full,  free,  boundless  grace ; 

But  with  his  disciples  lived  out  the  truth, 

He  came  to  'stablish  with  undying  proof : 

Whilst  those  who  now  pretend  to  do  his  will, 

*  It  is  not  enough  that  we  have  the  Gospel,  or  that  we  hear  it  ;  but 
we  must  believe  it,  and  lay  it  up  in  the  secrets  of  our  hearts,  or  we 
shall  not  find  Christ.  God  respecteth  not  the  person  ;  it  matters  not 
whether  one  be  learned  or  unlearned,  —  instructed  in  many  places  of 
Scripture,  or  in  few  ;  —  unto  whom  God  giveth  grace  he  it  is  that  en 
joys  Christ.  After  the  wise  men  had  found  the  child  Christ,  at  Beth 
lehem,  together  with  Joseph  and  Mary,  by  the  help  of  the  Scripture 
and  guiding  of  the  star,  they  were  not  offended  at  the  low  condition 
of  him  ;  but,  being  taught  by  the  word,  acknowledged  him  to  be  the 
Messiah,  the  King  of  the  Jews,  for  whom  they  had  looked  for  so  many 
years.  They  then  opened  their  treasures,  and  offered  him  gold,  frank- 
incence,  and  myrrh.  The  wise  men  do  not  disdain  him  because  he  is 
without  pomp  and  splendor,  neither  do  they  turn  back  because  they 
find  him  and  his  parents  in  poverty  and  misery,  but  undoubtedly  ac 
knowledge  him  as  king,  as  they  had  learned  concerning  him  out  of 
the  Scripture.  Moreover,  they  gave  him  the  honor  due  to  a  king  ;  — 
they  offer  him  most  precious  gifts,  which  they  had  brought  out  of 
their  own  country. 

5 


50  OUR     MODERN 


ATHENS 


Are  prone  to  speculate  and  belly  fill, 

With  all  the  dainties  had  through  clever  pay, 

And  thus  they  vegetate  and  Christian  play  :  * 

*  It  happened  to  us,  from  a  too  close  attention  to  books,  to  break 
down  our  stomach,  whence  ensued  cerebral  congestion.  In  this  help 
less  condition  —  broken  in  stomach,  heart,  and  brain  —  we  were  aban 
doned  to  the  resources  of  our  own  morbid  and  chaotic  mind.  The 
ministers  of  "  sweet  religion  "  —  whose  duty  it  was  to  be  informed  of 
our  disease,  threatening  us  with  insanity  and  death  —  came  not  near, 
to  soothe,  with  kind  words,  our  depression  and  lacerated  soul.  None 
but  ourself  was  to  ourself  true.  The  self-complacent  Christian,  who 
knows  as  little  of  practical  life  as  a  flea  does  of  self-denial,  wonders 
why  there  should  be  infidels  ;  but  if  they  could  look  with  our  eyes  into 
the  Christian  ranks,  and  understand  as  we  do  the  hypocritical  scoun 
drels,  both  lay  and  clergy,  who  call  themselves  the  church,  they 
would  rather  wonder  why, -in  the  place  of  one  infidel,  there  are  not  a 
thousand.  Against  the  religion  of  the  blessed  Jesus  we  have  not  one 
word  to  say.  It  is  the  only  light,  imperfect  as  it  may  appear,  by 
which  man  can  find  out  the  road  to  happiness,  have  peace  of  mind,  and 
be  reconciled  to  his  Maker.  The  many  schemes  which  have  been  set 
on  foot,  from  the  earliest  records  of  speculative  philosophy,  explains 
nothing,  but  leaves  the  mind  darker  than  before  ;  with  none  of  Chris 
tianity's  magnificent  hopes,  supported  by  the  highest  spiritual  convic 
tions  of  their  reasonableness.  Yet  the  arguments  of  the  opposers  of 
Christianity  have  a  strength  we  could  wish  otherwise  ;  the  most  potent 
of  which  is  that  Christians  themselves  do  not  carry  out  in  practice 
their  professions  !  This,  alas  !  is  too  true,  in  too  large  a  number  of 
instances.  The  spiritualism  of  Jesus  is  the  most  perfect  ever  given  to 
the  world.  Rightly  understood  and  followed,  this  existence,  instead 
of  being  a  snare  to  so  many,  would  be  a  bearable  condition  ;  and  in 
stead  of  remarking  as  we  do,  upon  the  human  countenance,  from  early 
life  to  old  age,  such  terrible  marks  of  evil  passion,  and  confusion  of 
ideas,  we  should  see  there  nothing  but  an  honorable  conscience,  sus 
tained  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  which  is  the  influence  of  Christ  extended  to 
all  those  who  believe  in,  and  practice^  his  conciliatory  and  self-sacri 
ficing  spirit.  We  regret  to  be  able  to  say  that  the  writings  of  the 
eariy  fathers  are  so  contradictory  in  regard  to  the  teachings  of  Christ 
and  his  apostles,  and  that  the  Bible  itself  is  so  confused  in  its  text, 
that  no  positive  knowledge  as  to  what  was  actually  spoken  by  Jesus, 
and  commanded  by  him  to  be  believed,  can  conscientiously  be  avowed. 
And  it  does  seem,  to  any  other  than  one  of  the  greatest  imaginable 
faith  and  humble  intelligence,  quite  incredible  that  God  should  have 
submitted,  through  the  person  of  Christ,  to  so  much  indignity  from 
man,  to  redeem  him,  and  yet  preserve  no  more  satisfactory  record,  to 
all  minds,  of  his  will  and  teachings,  than  we  now  possess,  or  are  likely 
to  possess.  The  theological  jargon  which  passes  for  religion,  among  so 
large  a  number,  is  but  a  poor  apology  for  the  fact  that  't  is  the  best 
truth  that  can  be  found.  Yet,  despite  the  deceptions,  disingenuine- 


0  11 ,     WHO      IS     FIRST?  51 

They  are  more  of  deists  than  of  sweet  Christ ; 

This  world  's  their  home  —  here  's  their  sole  Paradise  : 

We  mark  them  on  the  street  —  in  the  pulpit, 

With  less  of  piety  than  worldly  wit ; 

They  theorize,  and  speculate,  and  damn, 

With  sceptic  notions  the  quiet  of  the  land. 

Out  of  that  church  with  error  blackened  o'er,* 

The  mother  of  ages  !  and  the  "  great  whore," 

There  is  no  peace  but  all  to  discord  tends, 

And  man  with  man  in  subtlest  thought  contends. 

The  llomish  priest  though  packed  with  holy  lies, 

Holds  to  his  doctrine  and  for  religion  dies  ; 

The  heretic  pastor  if  unshackled, 

(Though  not  compelled  for  proud  Rome  to  battle), 

Is  stuffed  with  novelties  and  knows  not  what, 

Is  safe  to  preach  to  people,  or  what  not : 

He  seems  to  lack  authority  !  and  men 

May  hear  him  earnest  teach,  but,  oh  !  what  then  ? 

Others  there  are  as  earnest  who  declare 

All  is  falsehood,  that  Christ  was  but  a  seer,  — 

A  man  like  other  men,  —  a  noble  soul, 


ness,  and  hypocrisy  of  the  clergy,  who  insist  upon  retailing  from  the 
pulpit  their  scholastic  nonsense,  and  despite  the  innocence  of  large 
numbers,  who  are  charmed  with  their  instruction,  we  are  free  to  hope 
that  the  little  that  we  do  know  of  Christ  will,  ere  long,  be  fairly  stated, 
and  the  world  be  put  in  possession  of  the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  and 
nothing  (wt  the  truth.  We  think  upon  such  a  basis  a  religion  may  be 
established  that  will  command  the  attention  of  men,  and  influence 
their  action. 

*  In  alluding  to  the  subject  of  religion,  in  connection  with  the 
Roman  Catholic  Church,  we  felt  bound  to  award  that  most  remarkable 
power  the  credit  which  is  its  due,  while  at  the  same  time  we  perfectly 
well  know  it  is  without  any  valid  claims  whatever  to  have  proceeded 
either  from  Jesus  Christ  or  his  apostles.  It  is  a  sheer  invention  of 
man,  to  control  by  the  trappings  and  insignia  of  power  the  self-willed 
masses  ;  and  as  a  means  to  such  an  end,  it  worked  admirably  to  the 
time  of  Luther,  and  yet  continues  to  wield  an  immense  influence.  We 
are  an  enemy  to  the  institution,  because  it  is  an  unqualified  cheat,  de 
signed  by  knaves. 


52  OURMODERN 

Who  sought  the  good  from  out  this  wicked  world, 

Appealed  to  his  Father  as  we  also, 

May  pray  and  e'en  as  Christ  the  Father  know.* 

*  In  the  "Gospel  of  St.  John  (chap.  3)  is  plainly  and  directly  shown 
the  difference  of  the  persons,  in  the  highest  and  greatest  work  that 
God  accomplished  for  us  poor  human  creatures,  in  justifying  and  sav 
ing  us  ;  for  there  it  is  plainly  written  of  the  Father,  that  he  loved  the 
world,  and  gave  to  the  world  his  only  begotten  Son.  These  are  two 
several  persons, —  Father  and  Son.  The  Father  loves  the  world,  and 
gives  unto  it  the  Son.  The  Son  suffers  himself  to  be  given  to  the  world, 
and  "  to  be  lifted  up  on  the  cross,  as  the  serpent  was  lifted  up  in  the 
wilderness,  that  whosoever  believed  in  him  should  not  perish,  but  have 
everlasting  life."  To  this  work  comes  afterwards  the  third  person, 
the  Holy  Ghost,  who  kindles  faith  in  the  heart  through  the  Word,  and 
so  regenerates  us,  and  makes  us  the  children  of  God.  This  article, 
though  it  be  taught  most  clearly  in  the  New  Testament,  yet  has  been 
always  assaulted  and  opposed  in  the  highest  measure  ;  so  that  the  holy 
evangelist,  St.  John,  for  the  confirmation  of  the  article,  was  con 
strained  to  write  his  Gospel.  Then  came,  presently,  that  heretic, 
Cerinthus,  teaching  out  of  Moses  that  there  was  but  one  God,  and  con 
cluding  hence  that  Christ  could  not  be  God,  or  God  man.  But  let  us 
stick  to  God's  word,  in  the  Holy  Scriptures,  that  Christ  is  true  God, 
with  God  the  Father,  and  that  the  Holy  Ghost  is  true  God  ;  and  yet 
there  are  not  three  Gods,  nor  three  substances,  as  three  men.  three 
angels,  three  sons,  three  windows,  &c.  No  :  God  is  not  separated  or 
divided,  in  such  manner,  in  his  substance  ;  but  there  is  only  and 
alone  one  divine  essence,  and  no  more.  Therefore,  though  there  be 
three  persons,  —  God  the  Father,  God  the  Son,  and  God  the  Holy 
Ghost,  —  yet  notwithstanding,  we  must  not  divide  or  separate  the  sub 
stance  ;  for  there  is  but  only  one  God,  in  one  only  undivided  substance; 
as  St.  Paul  clearly  speaks  of  Christ  (Colos.  chap.  1),  —  that  he  is  the 
express  image  of  the  invisible  God,  the  first-born  of  all  creatures  ;  for 
through  him  all  things  are  created  that  are  in  heaven  or  on  earth, 
visible,  &c.,  and  .all  is  through  and  in  him  created,  and  he  is  before 
all,  and  all  things  consist  in  him.  Now,  what  the  third  person  is,  the 
holy  evangelist,  St.  John,  teaches,  chap.  15,  where  he  says,  "  But  when 
the  Comforter  is  come,  which  I  will  send  unto  you  from  the  Father, 
the  spirit  of  truth  which  proceeds  from  the  Father,  he  shall  testify  of 
me."  Here  Christ  speaks  not  only  of  the  office  and  work  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  but  also  of  his  substance  and  faith  :  he  goes  out,  or  proceeds 
from,  the  Father  ;  that  is,  his  going  out,  or  his  proceeding,  is  without 
all  beginning,  and  everlasting.  Therefore  the  holy  prophet  Joel  gives 
him  the  name,  and  calls  him,  "  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord."  Now,  al 
though  this  article  seems  strange  or  foolish,  what  matters  it?  It  13 
not  the  question  whether  it  be  so  or  no  ;  but  whether  it  be  grounded  on 
God's  word  or  no.  If  it  be  God's  word,  as  most  surely  it  is,  then  let 
us  make  no  doubt  thereof ;  he  will  not  lie  ;  therefore  let  us  keep  close 
to  God's  word,  and  not  dispute  how  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost  can 


OR,     WHO     IS     FIRST?  53 

"  Modern  Athens  "  is  stocked  with  infidels  ; 
They  are  first !  and  important  station  fills. 
They  deify  the  intellect !  and  think 
The  soul  is  competent  to  approach  th'  brink, 
Of  that  eternal  truth  which  dwells  with  God,  — 


be  one  God  ;  for  we,  as  poor  wretches,  cannot  know  how  it  is  we  lau^li, 
or  how  with  our  eyes  we  can  see  a  high  mountain  ten  miles  oft',  or  how 
it  is  that  when  we  sleep  in  body  we  are  dead,  and  yet  alive.  This 
small  knowledge  we  cannot  attain  unto  ;  no,  though  we  took  to  our 
help  the  advice  arid  art  of  all  the  wise  in  the  world,  we  are  not  able  to 
know  the  least  things  which  concern  ourselves  ;  and  yet  we  would 
climb  up,  with  our  human  wit  and  wisdom,  and  presume  to  compre 
hend  what  God  is,  in  his  incomprehensible  majesty  !  The  chief  lesson 
and  study  in  divinity  is  that  we  learn  well  and  rightly  to  know  Christ, 
who  is  therein  very  graciously  pictured  forth  unto  us.  Christ  himself 
teaches  that  we  should  learn  to  know  him  only  out  of  the  Scriptures, 
Avhere  he  says,  "Search  the  Scriptures;  for  they  do  testify  of  me." 
St.  John  says,  "  In  the  beginning  was  the  Word,  and  the  Word  was 
with  God,  and  the  Word  was  God."  The  Apostle  Thomas  also  calls 
Christ  God,  where  he  says,  "  My  Lord  and  my  God."  In  like  manner 
St.  Paul,  (Jth  Romans,  speaks  of  Christ  that  he  is  God  !  where  he  says, 
"  Who  is  God  over  all,  blessed  forever  !  Arnen."  And,  Colos.  2,  "  In 
Christ  dwelleth  all  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead  bodily  ;"  that  is,  sub 
stantially.  Christ  must  needs  be  true  God,  seeing  he  through  himself 
fulfilled  and  overcame  the  law  ;  for  most  certain  it  is  that  no  one  else 
could  have  vanquished  the  law,  angel  or  human  creature,  but  Christ 
only,  so  that  it  cannot  hurt  those  that  believe  in  him  ;  therefore,  most 
certainly  he  is  the  Son  of  God,  and  natural  God.  Now,  if  we  compre 
hend  Christ  in  this  manner,  as  the  Holy  Scripture  displays  him  before 
us,  then  certain  it  is  that  we  can  neither  err  nor  be  put  to  confusion  ; 
and  may  then  easily  judge  what  is  right  to  be  held  of  all  manner  of 
divine  qualities,  religions,  and  worship  that  are  used  and  practiced  in 
.the  universal  world.  Were  this  picturing  of  Christ  removed  out  of 
our  sight,  or  darkened  in  us,  undeniably  there  must  needs  follow  utter 
disorder  ;  fur  human  and  natural  religion,  wisdom,  and  understand 
ing  cannot  judge  aright  and  truly  of  the  laws  of  God;  therein  has  been 
and  still  is  exhausted  the  arts  of  all  philosophers,  of  all  the  learned 
and  worldly-wise  among  the  children  of  men.  For  the  law  rules  and 
governs  mankind  ;  therefore  the  law  judges  mankind,  and  not  man 
kind  the  law.  If  Christ  be  not  God,  then  neither  the  Father  nor  the 
Holy  Ghust  is  God  ;  for  our  article  of  faith  speaks  thus  :  "  Christ  is 
God,  with  the  Father  and  the  Holy  Ghost."  Many  there  are  who 
talk  much  of  the  Godhead  of  Christ,  as  the  Pope,  and  others  ;  but 
they  discourse  thereof  as  a  blind  man  speaks  of  colors.  Therefore, 
when  I  hear  Christ  speak  and  say,  "  Come  to  me  all  ye  that  are  weary 
and  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest,"  then  do  I  believe  stead- 

5* 


54  OUH     MODERNATHENS 


To  share  with  Him  the  glory  of  His  nod  ! 
Blasphemous  insolence  !  what  is  the  mind, 
That  it  should  thus  its  puny  self  subliine  ? 
"What  has  it  learned  with  all  its  boasted  wit, 
Since  Eden's  day  that  doth  a  God  befit  ? 

fastly  that  the  whole  Godhead  speaks  in  an  undivided  and  unseparate 
substance.  Wherefore,  he  that  preaches  a  God  to  me  that  died  not 
for  me  the  death  on  the  cross,  that  God  will  I  not  receive.  He  that 
has  this  article  has  the  chief  and  principle  article  of  faith,  though  to 
the  world  it  seem  unmeaning,  and  even  ridiculous.  Christ  says, 
"  The  Comforter  which  I  will  send  shall  not  depart  from  you,  but  will 
remain  with  you,  and  will  make  you  able  to  endure  all  manner  of 
tribulations  and  evils."  When  Christ  says  "I  will  pray  to  the  Fa 
ther,"  then  he  speaks  as  a  human  creature,  or  as  very  man  ;  but 
when  he  says  I  will  do  this  or  that,  as  before  he  said  I  will  send  the 
Comforter,  then  he  speaks  as  very  God.  In  this  manner  do  I  learn 
my  article,  "  That  Christ  is  both  God  and  man."  Let  whatever  will 
or  can  befall  me,  I  will  surely  cleave  by  my  sweet  Saviour  Jesus 
Christ ;  for  in  him  am  I  baptized.  I  can  neither  do  nor  know  any 
thing  but  only  what  be  has  taught  me.  The  Holy  Scriptures,  es 
pecially  St.  Paul,  every  where  ascribe  unto  Christ  that  which  he  gives 
to  the  Father,  namely,  the  divine  almighty  power  ;  so  that  he  can 
give  grace  and  peace  of  conscience,  forgiveness  of  sins,  life,  victory 
over  sin,  and  death,  and  the  devil.  Now,  unless  St.  Paul  would  rob 
God  of  his  honor,  and  give  it  to  another  that  is  not  God,  he  dared  not 
ascribe  such  properties  and  attributes  to  Christ,  if  he  were  not  true 
God  ;  and  God  himself  says,  "I  will  not  give  my  glory  to  another." 
Isa.  chap.  42.  Arid,  indeed,  no  man  can  give  that  to  another  which 
he  has  not  himself  ;  but,  seeing  Christ  gives  grace  and  peace,  the  Holy 
Ghost  also,  and  redeems  from  the  power  of  the  devil,  sin,  and  death, 
so  is  it  most  sure  that  he  has  an  endless,  immeasurable,  almighty 
power,  equal  with  the  Father.  We  must  think  of  no  other  God  than 
Christ.  That  God  which  speaks  not  out  of  Christ's  mouth  is  not  God. 
God,  in  the  Old  Testament,  bound  himself  to  the  throne  of  grace  ; 
there  was  the  place  where  he  would  hear,  so  long  as  the  policy  arid 
government  of  Moses  stood  and  flourished.  In  like  mariner  he  will 
still  hear  no  man  or  human  creature  but  only  through  Christ.  As 
numbers  of  Jews  ran  to  and  fro,  burning  incense  and  offerings,  here 
and  there,  and  seeking  God  in  various  places,  not  regarding  the  tab 
ernacle,  so  it  goes  now  :  we  seek  God  every  where  ;  but  not  seeking 
him  in  Christ  we  find  him  no  where. 

MARTIN  LUTHER'S  "  Table  Talk." 

In  regard  to  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  we  wish  to  be  understood 
as  expressing  the  opinion  that  it  is  possible  it  may  be  true.  We  can 
not,  with  Luther,  maintain  that  it  is  ;  because  we  know  the  question 
to  be  beset  with  the  most  profound  and  unhappy  diihculties. 


What  knows  it  compared  to  what's  yet  unknown, 
Eternal  space  where  widest  systems  roll ! 
And  shouldst  presume  to  doubt  it  may  be  so, 
That  Christ  was  God  !  —  that  we  can  only  know, 
Of  spirit  and  its  peace  through  his  high  word, 
Erst  in  Judea  and  by  Jordan  heard  ? 
0,  no,  the  mind  of  man  is  not  of  force, 
To  come  to  God  through  reason's  slipp'ry  course  !  * 
The  world  had  tried  it,  and  had  tried  in  vain, 
When  Christ  appeared  in  great  Jehovah's  name  ! 


*  We  are  pained  to  state  that  in  our  judgment  the  clergy,  as  a  body, 
are  far  from  being  true  to  their  exalted  mission.  Whoever  has  famil 
iarized  their  minds  with  Christianity  in  the  apostolic  age,  as  it  is  pre 
sented  by  Mosheims  and  other  able,  candid,  and  impartial  writers, 
must  look  with  supreme  contempt  upon  large  numbers  of  "  God's  serv 
ants,"  in  these  degenerate  times,  wno  discourse  of  politics,  and  nearly 
all  the  extraneous  matters  of  the  day,  to  the  exclusion  and  scandal  of 
true  Christianity.  These  clerical  villains  are  the  scourge  of  the 
times ;  the  willing  instruments  of  Satan,  in  the  work  which  is  now 
being  consummated  of  universal  hate,  consequent  on  the  overthrow  of 
the  idea  of  self-government  as  expressed  by  our  political  and  social  in 
stitutions.  No  man,  in  his  right  senses,  can  fail  to  perceive  that  the 
clergy  have  had  much  to  do  in  the  production  of  the  wild  and  godless 
fanaticism,  which,  being  a  religious,  faith!  can  only  be  silenced  and 
exterminated  by  the  sword  of  an  avenging  wrath  in  the  bosom  of  those 
men,  who,  inspired  by  a  hearty  common  sense,  and  a  magnanimous 
conscience,  are  ever  ready  to  do  battle  in  defence  of  practical  ideas, 
that  redound  most  to  the  honor  of  God,  and  advance  most  the  general 
interests  of  his  creatures.  We  charge  upon  an  apostate,  vile,  and  vil 
lainous  pulpit  much  of  the  growth  of  that  hostility  to  the  slave  inter 
est  at  the  South,  which  nothing,  in  our  judgment,  can  now  remove  but 
the  direct  interposition  of  Heaven.  It  seems  to  us  that  if  the  South 
are  true  to  themselves,  —  steadfast  to  their  honor,  —  that,  rather  than 
be  governed  by  a  Northern  party,  of  declared  enmity  to  its  great  and 
leading  interest,  she  will  incur  any  risk,  however  fearful,  in  repudiat 
ing  the  Constitution.  That  such  will  be  her  action  admits  not  of  a 
doubt  ;  and  that  she  will  have  the  sympathy  of  Christendom,  in  sup 
port  of  her  honor,  is  equally  certain.  We  trust  the  Union  may  be 
preserved.  We  are  indeed  strong  unite  I,  and  have  a  momentum  of 
surprising  force,  in  marked  contrast  with  that  condition  which  would 
follow  dissolution  and  the  business  of  civil  war  and  bloodshed,  such  as 
we  have  no  record  of  in  the  annals  of  time,  deep  with  gore  as  they  are  ; 
but  this  preservation  of  so  great  a  legacy  must  depend  upon  Northern 
justice  and  valor. 


56  OUR     MODERN     ATHENS; 

He  spoke,  and  perished  !  but  his  word  will  live, 
To  cheer  the  helpless  as  they  silent  grieve. 
In  "Modern  Athens  "  those  men  are  the  first, 
Who  accept  the  "  mean  doctrine  "  of  the  curse, 
And  preach  repentance  of  our  daily  sins, 
Obtained  through  Christ  with  whom  our  life  begins, 

And  now  we  turn  to  that  audacious  pack, 

Of  brazen  reprobates  who  're  labeled  "  quack," 

In  art  and  science,  in  ev'ry  phaze  o'  life, 

They  cut  large  figure,  rampant  in  the  strife. 

They  've  bought  up  all  th'  papers  with  their  custom, 

And  editors  of  course  are  cautious  —  mum  ! 

They  '11  let  them  gull  the  public  to  a  man.  — 

They  pay  the  price,  "  the  public  may  be  hanged." 

We  like  ability  in  any  form, 

Whether  to  patch  an  eye  or  cure  a  corn ; 

But  when  sound  learning  and  still  sounder  sense, 

Is  starved  to  death  by  quackish  impudence, 

We  think  the  time  has  come  to  seek  a  plan, 

To  gibbet  quacks,  and  fumigate  the  land. 

There 's  Doctor  So-and-so  who  pulls  out  teeth, 

And  Lawyer  So-and-so  with  his  stout  brief,  — 

There  's  Parson  John  pounding  hard  the  pulpit, 

Exciting  sinners  to  laughter,  or  a  fit ; 

There 's  your  surgeon  bold  with  his  knife  stuck  in, 

To  some  poor  patient's  tough  and  greasy  skin  ; 

There 's  your  man  o'  physic  o'er  a  lady's  breast, 

Ambling  with  her  mouth  to  find  out  her  distress ; 

There  's  a  fellow,  hard  driving  a  split  pen, 

Ambitious  of  shining  'mong  lettered  men ; 

There  's  a  crack-brain  with  chisel  or  a  brush, 

Who  thinketh  art  his  mission  —  he  the  first 

Of  artists  !  —  weeping  that  the  •'  unkind  world," 


OR,    WHO    IS    FIRST?  57 

Should  squibs  and  laughter  at  his  labor  hurl ;  — 
All  quacks !  there  's  not  a  "  mother  son  "  without, 
The  gift  of  doing  what  they  know  'naught  'bout ! 
A  clever  talent  this  we  must  admit, 
But  not  akin  to  honest  common  wit, 
And  should  be  cufled  and  kicked  till  it  withdraws, 
From  those  high  seats  grasped  by  its  dirty  paws. 
Yet  quacks  will  flourish,  since  many  persons  are, 
More  pleased  with  humbug  than  with  truth  by  far : 
They  love  to  be  deceived !  and  he  who  can, 
Please  their  fancies  is  much  the  better  man. 

The  student  now  doth  claim  our  wand'ring  eye, 

As  he  with  patience  does  thought's  lens  apply ; 

Forgetful  oft  that  he  has  a  body, 

In  his  ardent  love  of  books  and  study. 

In  "  Modern  Athens  "  there  are  numbers  who, 

Are  curious  and  seek  extensive  view  ; 

They  've  ransacked  all  ages  and  can  relate, 

The  reign  and  crimes  of  every  potentate ; 

They  seem  to  live  more  in  the  distant  past, 

Than  in  the  brief  present  with  its  mean  cast, 

Of  incident  compared  with  what  has  been, 

When  glory  moved  all  hearts  and  great  was  king. 

We  love  the  student  for  his  labor  tells, 

O'  one  who  follows  not  the  beaux  and  belles ; 

Whose  head  is  thoughtful  and  whose  heart  is  pure, 

Who  honors  truth !  delights  to  hunt  it  o'er. 

And  though  his  brains  may  not  forever  be, 

Able  to  attain  th'  truth  successfully, 

So  mixed  with  error  is  it  yet  his  work, 

Is  noble  and  without  least  taint  of  hurt ; 

And  if  he  bears  within  his  soul  the  will, 

To  conquer  error  he  may  thus  fulfil, 


58  OUR     MODERN 

A  mission  high  and  live  a  happy  man, 

Conscious  of  God  —  led  of  his  holy  hand. 

Study  is  well,  so  too  is  gentle  play, 

The  one  should  follow  as  the  night  the  day : 

They  are  first  who  in  earnest  seek  the  truth, 

If  feet  are  large  and  patched  may  be  the  boot. 

In  "  Modern  Athens  "  the  studious  man  must, 

Ever  be  held  esteemed  among  the  first ; 

To  know,  to  be,  a  lexicon  of  facts, 

Is  e'er  to  mount  and  ride  on  others'  backs. 

Get  knowledge  if  thou  would  be  known  as  first, 

The  only  terror  to  commercial  purse,  — 

The  mere  money-king  who  waves  oft  his  hand, 

In  token  bold  of  his  astute  command,  — 

With  learning  !  thou  may'st  cool  him  down  to  one ! 

Make  him  respectful  as  a  well-whip'd  son. 

But  what  of  lit'rature,  of  those  who  read, 
And  dear  publishers  and  authors  feed, 
Sometimes  with  silver  spoon,  then  one  of  brass, 
Which  gives  'em  canker —  oh  !  'twill  be  the  last, 
Effort  for  an  age  to  please  a  dull  set, 
Of  book-worms  who  read  only  to  regret, 
Their  time  and  money  does  not  yield  much  more, 
With  stomachs  weak  and  eyes  so  painful  sore. 
Yes,  the  publishers  with  some  thousands  out, 
And  authors  who  are  grumbling  with  the  gout, 
Are  "  down  "  upon  "  blue  stockings  "  and  slim  legs, 
Owned  by  gents  who  walk  only  to  their  beds. 
But  what  care  readers  !  they  say  they  are  first, 
And  must  be  served,  or  publishers  will  burst. 
And  so  it  goes ;  your  reader  is  a  lord, 
In  "  Modern  Athens  "  as  he  is  abroad ; 
Pleased  he  must  be,  or  his  dimes  will  remain 


OR,     WHO     IS     FIRST?  59 

In  bank,  and  bookstores  soon  run  short  of  change. 

There  's  something  quite  amusing  in  readers, 

Who  snuff  and  do  not  snuff —  "  they  are  sneezers  "  ! 

There  's  not  a  single  one  from  Bess  to  Half, 

"  That  is  not  thunder  "  in  learning's  high  behalf; 

It  matters  not  whether  they  're  learned  in  signs, 

Have  drank  the  classics  up,  or  Flemish  wines  ; 

They  're  readers !  and  that,  sirs,  is  quite  enough, 

They  '11  damn  your  trade  if  you  're  not  "  up  to  snuff." 

By  Heavens  !  't  is  a  lovely  sight  to  see, 

These  readers  on  a  literary  spree ; 

They  've  got  several  new  books ;  "  and  what  can, 

Be  said  new  at  all  by  earthly  man  ?  " 

That 's  the  great  question !  look  out  for  breakers, 

0,  authors !  when  thy  lamp-scented  papers, 

Have  been  devoured,  and  their  flat  taste  discussed, 

Which  some  laugh  at,  whilst  others  they  disgust ! 

They  are  readers,  sir,  and  their  opinions, 

Thy  law  is !  ye  are  their  booted  minions ! 

If  you  don't  think  as  they  would  have  you  think, 

The  devil  grim  may  take  you  in  a  wink. 

In  "  Modern  Athens  "  there  is  no  class  so, 

Confident  —  ready  with  how  much  they  know ! 

One  can  tell  these  readers  at  a  glance, 

They  bear  within  their  eye  wit's  bluntest  lance ; 

They  walk  too  as  though  they  bore  on  their  top, 

The  "  cream  "  of  each  heavy  publisher's  shop  ; 

And  yet,  too  often,  should  we  tap  their  head, 

Their  vast  attainments  bright  would  be  but  lead ! 

There  is  a  difference  'tween  the  student, 

And  the  reader  merely  —  one  is  bent, 

On  stuffing  orderly  and  well  his  brain, 

With  what  he  proves  to  be  decided  gain  ; 

The  other  like  a  lap-doy  would  be  pleased, 


60  OUR    MODERN     ATHENS; 

And  seeks  to  know  with  the  most  perfect  ease. 

Books  are  to  him  what  lovers  are  to  maids,  — 

Footballs  to  kick  when  fickled  mood  persuades. 

Authors,  we  pity  you  !  we  feel  your  woe, 

To  be  thus  exercised  by  readers'  toe ; 

Yet  there  is  no  escape  —  you  're  after  fame, 

And  you  must  pay  the  price  of  honored  name  ! 

If  kicked,  be  patient !  let  them  kick  again  ; 

You  've  got  your  library  —  you  've  got  your  pen, 

And  you  've  got  your  publisher  —  that 's  a  bore, 

Harder  than  all  with  patience  to  endure  ; 

For,  if  you  've  genius  but  have  got  no  "  tin," 

They  '11  print  your  musings,  and  they  '11  "  put  you  in." 

For  sixpence !  to  their  fat,  full-faced  dollar  ! 

Howe'er  hard  you  grunt,  and  groan,  and  holloa, 

But  publishers  are  well  enough  —  they  're  first, 

In  "  our  Athens  "  when  not  by  readers  cursed. 

And  of  all  men  the  author  is  the  last ; 

A  bootblack,  a  scavenger,  a  jackass, 

Are  they  dependent  for  their  daily  bread, 

On  what  may  chance  to  rattle  in  their  head ; 

And  what  may  chance  to  fit  a  bookman's  trade, 

To  please  a  loafer  or  to  tease  a  maid. 

Genius,  —  poor  genius  is  the  last  to  see, 

Itself  rewarded  and  from  sorrow  free  ! 

But  though  ye  thus  do  suffer  and  thus  weep, 

Thy  soul  is  mighty  and  thy  thought  is  deep. 

If  man  will  not  a  proper  homage  pay, 

But  leave  thee  lonely  to  pursue  thy  way, 

Thy  scorn  is  fire  and  thy  heart  is  iron, 

The  world  thy  laughter,  cherished  dreams  thy  sun, 

Brighter  far  than  the  light  which  doth  illume, 

Those  darkened  bosoms,  that  false  pride  assume, 


OR,     WHO     IS     FIRST?  61 

Who  would  have  thee  work,  see  thee  die  of  want, 
And  mourn  thy  exit  with  a  tender  grunt. 

The  critic  now  doth  offer  to  our  hand, 

Attempting  oft  with  "  faintest  praise  to  damn ;" 

We  've  seen  such  fellows,  and  we  've  seen  them  whip'd, 

By  something  less  than  classic  school-boy  wit ; 

They  've  great  courage  when  they  scent  no  danger, 

Snappish  and  snarling  as  th'  dog  in  th'  manger ; 

But  let  a  crack  of  genius  sharp  the  ear 

Arrest,  and  they  fall  backward  in  the  rear ; 

They  're  last  just  now,  but  will  quite  soon  be  first, 

When  some  moderate  author  comes  with  verse ; 

They  '11  "  shin  "  him  sure,  and  if  his  bones  are  loose, 

They  '11  shake  them  out  of  him  with  mean  abuse. 

In  "  Modern  Athens  "  these  quill-men  are  first, 

When  they  dignify  not  abuse  their  trust ; 

But  most  strange  it  is  we  have  few  critics, 

Who  are  superlatively  diamond  wits  ; 

They  may  well  cut,  but  they  do  not  sparkle  ! 

Their  knife 's  a  bowie  —  not  an  article 

Of  finished  poignancy  which  does  its  work, 

With  thoroughness  !  but  not  with  lasting  hurt ! 

We  want  such  critics,  we  must  have  them  too, 

Fair  play  to  authors  is  from  "  Athens  "  due. 

One  word  of  clerks !  those  small  and  tender  limbs, 
Of  commerce  whose  labors  with  day  begins  ; 
Whose  pay  's  a  trifle  and  whose  hopes  are  dark, 
Whose  life  's  a  burden,  and  whose  bliss  a  spark, 
No  sooner  kindled  than  fate  puts  it  out, 
Through  churlish  master  or  some  other  lout ; 
They  are  but  clerks,  and  pray  what  is  a  clerk, 
More  than  common  and  most  neglected  dirt  ? 
6 


62  OUR     MODERN      ATHENS; 

They  help  make  fortunes,  but  well  what  of  that, 

The  mule  draws  th'  dray,  the  soldier  bears  the  'sack ; 

But  neither  mule  or  man  is  thought  to  be, 

Worthy  of  care  in  any  marked  degree ; 

They  are  driven  fast  or  slow  as  the  need, 

Of  master  may  require,  and  though  they  bleed 

At  heart,  and  ask  whence  has  sweet  justice  flown, 

Echo  responsive  greets  them  with  a  moan : 

And  so  they  pass  and  "  onward  plod  their  way," 

Till  "  worked  to  death  "  they  back  return  to  clay ; 

Glad  to  depart  from  out  the  traces  drear, 

In  which  they  've  pulled  unloved  from  year  to  year ; 

In  which  they  've  known  how  base  it  is  to  serve, 

Where  honor  is  not  and  where  truth  's  unheard  ! 

Take  courage  clerks  !  and  if  thy  talents  are, 

For  others  plied  be  thou  above  them  far  ; 

If  they  thy  talents  use  and  do  not  give, 

Thee  recompense  to  save  as  well  as  live, 

Above  them  be  in  this,  accomplished  mind  ! ! 

A  bliss  they  know  not  with  their  much-prized  coin : 

Teach  them  to  feel  there  is  a  solace  dear, 

In  cultured  taste  though  oft  flows  sorrow's  tear  ; 

Teach  them  to  be,  though  masters,  gentlemen  ! 

To  pay  for  service  what  'tis  worth  to  them. 

Let  thy  example  and  thy  spirit  brave, 

Teach  them  thou  art  no  mean  and  coward  slave ; 

That  thy  soul  is  lofty,  thy  purpose  pure,  — 

Equal  with  them  before  God's  perfect  law ; 

So  shalt  thou  stand  'mid  "  Athens  "  honored  first, 

Humble  though  thy  lot,  scanty  though  thy  purse. 

And  last,  not  least,  in  our  love,  mechanic, 
We  take  thy  hand  and  have  pleasure  in  it ; 
Thy  "  bone  and  sinew  and  thy  manly  brain," 


OR,    WHO    IS    FIRST?  63 

Are  "Athens'  "  boast,  and  "Athens1  "  needful  gain  ! 

There  is  a  set  who  turn  their  backs  on  thee, 

But  manly  hearts  of  insolence  are  free  ! 

'T  is  only  those  with  more  of  pride  than  sense, 

Who  fail  to  see  thy  foremost  consequence ; 

The  knowledge  which  is  thine,  and  must  be  thine, 

To  do  thy  labor  taxes  much  thy  mind ; 

Not  more  the  merchant  or  the  physician, 

Stout  manhood  needs  to  maintain  position  ! 

When  thou  art  true  to  thyself  and  science, 

Thou  art  \hsfirst,  howe'er  unrecompensed 

May  be  thy  weary  toil  while  others  play, 

And  strut  about  as  idlers  all  the  day : 

We  trust  the  time  's  not  distant  when  thy  mind, 

Will  more  of  right  in  mammon's  conscience  find ; 

When  thy  pay  shall  be  worthy  of  thy  toil, 

Thy  hand  no  meaner  'cause  that  it  is  soiled. 

It  is  to  tJiee  "  our  Athens  "  owes  her  dress, 

Of  mechanic  beauty  !  her  happiness 

In  fame  !  thy  "  vulgar  energies  "  conjoined 

With  capital  hath  wafted  o'er  the  main. 

And  shall  thy  solid  worth  be  trampled  on, 

By  upstart  pigmies  to  starve  perhaps  anon ! 

Looking  as  though  a  stout  hammer  and  nail, 

Would  spend  their  wind  and  flat  their  spreading  sail. 

Are  such  as  these  to  outface  thee  brave  man, 

In  "Athens  "  noted  for  thy  most  skilful  hand  ! 

Oh,  no,  thou  'rt  first !  hold  up  thy  honest  head, 

And  be  not  dashed  by  peacock  pigmies'  tread. 

And  now  to  close ;  yet  ere  we  wipe  our  pen, 
And  bring  this  doggerel  to  a  speedy  end, 
We  would  discursive  wander  through  the  town 
And  turn  a  few  more  sweet  "  Athenians  "  round : 


64 


First,  there  is  Jim  munching  his  dime  cigar, 
Great  at  billiards,  and  often  at  the  "  bar." 
He  loves  the  ladies,  but  their  papas  say, 
To  win  so  smart  a  youth  will  never  pay. 
He  's  first  !  !  !  that  is,  his  family  is  known, 
To  live  about  the  lofty  State  House  dome  ; 
He  's  a  gymnast  smart,  can  box  well  and  fence, 
In  these  accomplishments  he  shows  much  sense. 
Then  there  's  Titans  !  who  '11  oar  it  full  two  miles, 
Ere  you  can  kiss  a  maiden  for  her  smiles. 
They  are  trumps  !  and  only  play  to  win, 
Loving  a  boat  as  Satan  worships  sin  : 
But  with  all  their  muscle,  oars,  and  prizes, 
They  are  modest  youths  and  wait  on  ladies  ; 
They  are  not  "  blowers  "  though  heroes  bold, 
In  "  Athens"  honored  for  their  manly  soul  : 
We  think  them  first  —  we  think  all  fully  first, 
Taking  to  water  —  and  who  take  the  purse  ! 
We  bid  God  speed  heroic  muscle  —  mind 
Too,  that  loves  th'  oar,  but  not  to  oars  incline. 

From  hearty  youth  we  pass  to  proud  old  maids, 
Decked  out  in  crinoline  and  in  brocades  ; 
They  've  had  more  offers  than  pet  squirrels  nuts, 
But  their  "  dear  men  "  have  been  misfortune's  butts, 
Who  would  not  wed  "  till  they  could  see  their  way," 
For  honor  bade  them  keep  dear  love  at  bay. 
So  thus  these  maidens  once  so  fresh  and  fair, 
Have  been  compelled  a  lap-dog  for  an  heir  ; 
They  "  rip  out  "  sometimes,  but  when  day  is  fine, 
And  the  heart  beats  freely  as  runs  good  old  wine, 
They  get  up  a  laugh  and  wonder  how  't  is, 
Girls  are  so  pleased  with  man's  disgusting  phiz. 
They  would  not  marry  the  best  one  alive," 


0  K ,     WHO     I  S     F  I  R  S  T  ?  65 

Though  bad  their  teeth,  their  hair  most  deeply  dyed. 

They  sigh,  to  think  it  though,  for  after  all, 

There  is  joy  in  whiskers  nicely  oiled ; 

They  feel  so  down-like  laid  gently  on  the  face, 

While  husband's  arm  enfolds  the  wife's  dear  waist, 

That  really,  though  men  are  plagues  and  puppies, 

Pleased  they  would  be  with  same,  at  least,  as  wooers. 

There  are  in  "  Modern  Athens  "  men  of  note, 

Who  'bout  theatres,  show-shops,  and  bar-rooms  float ; 

They  are  the  "  small-beer  wits  "  who  croak,  splutter, 

Of  genius  and  bet  high  on  one  another ; 

If  they  can  make  their  bed,  and  board,  and  drinks, 

'T  is  all  they  care  for  —  "  damn  what  th'  parson  thinks ;" 

With  managers,  editors,  reporters, 

They  are  arm-in-arm  as  sons  and  daughters : 

Their  smiles  are  mutual  and  their  hearts  soft, 

As  hides  in  store-house  on  Commercial  Wharf. 

Perhaps  wooing  the  manager  is  one, 

Who  's  got  a  play  he  would  have  speedy  done ; 

The  "  manager  dear  "  loathes  him  in  his  soul, 

But  as  't  is  genius  pleads  he  must  out-hold, 

Some  look  of  kindness  and  with  base  pretense, 

Appear  to  honor  his  dramatic  sense. 

And  so  it  goes,  and  so  those  who  would  gain, 

From  out  the  stage  an  author's  noble  fame, 

Must  write  his  scenes  with  trembling  and  in  fear, 

To  be  repaid  by  disappointment's  tear  ; 

To  be  kicked  and  pushed  by  actors  and  pimps, 

Who  beset  our  theatres  like  deathless  imps. 

If  one  has  genius  to  write  classic  play, 

He  yold  should  have  to  pave  his  muddy  way , 

To  keep  himself  aloof  from  meanest  pack, 

Who  labor  hard  to  break  an  author's  back. 


66  OUR     MODERN     ATHENS; 

Money,  ay  money,  is  the  need  of  all, 

The  drama's  genius  as  the  "  nigger's  ball ;" 

If  you  have  mind  arid  soul  and  will  to  be, 

A  noted  character  —  be  banker  !  —  he 

Can  have  plays  done  though  poor  their  plot  and  sense, 

Buy  managers,  actors,  with  recompense ! 

Let  lubbers  howl  their  criticisms  wild, 

What  care  thee  —  fortune's  imperial  child  !  * 

The  stage  should  be  held  in  the  highest  praise, 
"  Nature's  mirror  "  in  each  succeeding  age ! 
Genius  alone  should  govern  and  control, 
And  favors  asked  should  be  denied  the  bold, 
And  pert  who  forward  push  to  fill  the  place, 
Which  genius  most  godlike  alone  can  grace  I 
We  know  't  is  easy  to  define  the  law, 
That  should  prevail  as  it  prevailed  of  yore, 
When  men  were  authors  whose  wild  stormy  souly, 
Demanded  actors  equal  to  their  roles  ! 
Arid  actors  too  were  men  whose  genius  felt, 
The  glow  of  nature  and  with  transport  melt ! 
Who  soared  with  no  hand  —  op'd  no  mouthing  lip, 

*  We  have  no  hesitation  in  saying  that  the  manner  in  which  the  fa 
vors  of  managers,  actors,  and  actresses  are  obtained,  by  those  wishing 
new  pieces  produced,  is  a  sad  stigma  upon  the  profession.  An  author, 
or  his  friends,  must  play  the  toady  for  an  indefinite  period,  or  possess 
such  an  overshadowing  influence  as  to  command  their  support  at  once, 
in  order  to  get  a  new  piece  performed,  which,  if  successful,  imposes 
upon  the  "poor  author  "  an  everlasting  debt  of  gratitude,  he  is  not 
expected  ever  to  be  able  to  pay.  If  his  plays  make  him  anything,  and 
he  does  not  give  pretty  much  all  to  those  who  have  performed  it,  his 
meanness  becomes  the  subject  of  general  discussion  ;  so  that  a  man, 
unless  under  the  most  favorable  circumstances,  had  better  at  once 
hang  himself,  than  attempt  to  acquire  either  fame  or  a  competence  by 
dramatic  authorship.  He  is  beset  on  all  sides  by  enemies,  among 
whom  are  a  dissatisfied  pack,  who  have  the  ambition  to  write  for  the 
stage,  but  neither  the  talent,  genius,  or  industry  to  accomplish  any 
thing  meritorious.  They  block  the  way  of  true  merit,  as  so  much  im 
movable  lumber,  and  are  an  unqualified  nuisance  : 


I S     F I R  ST?  67 

Whose  form  and  features  were  a  language  fit,  ' 
To  bring  down  the  house  —  fill  the  eye  with  tear, 
Winning  nightly  laurel  from  "  the  public  dear." 
13 ut  though  that  age  has  passed  and  at  this  hour, 
The  drama  crippled  has  lost  its  power, 
Yet  may  it  be  in  "  Modern  Athens  "  made, 
To  natter  genius  and  its  merit  aid ; 
There  is  no  school  like  it,  and  people  will 
Cherish  its  love  and  cling  around  it  still ; 
The  poet's  soul  exhales  most  fragrance  here, 
Which  nature  counterfeits  to  virtue  rear  : 
Let  "  Modern  Athens  "  place  among  her  first, 
The  drama's  masters  of  the  sock  and  verse, 
Let  this  art  so  ancient  and  truly  great, 
Be  here  protected  from  disastrous  fate ; 
Let  it  be  raised  at  once  and  all  become, 
Pledged  to  guard  it  even  to  martyrdom. 

And  now,  kind  reader,  be  thou  foul  or  fair, 
We  thank  thee  warmly  for  thy  'tentive  ear ; 
If  thou  perchance  doth  deem  we  've  stricken  hard, 
Bethink  thee  of  our  subject —  that  the  bard, 
Is  privileged  to  speak  the  truth  though  sad 
Its  telling,  when  listeners  would  be  glad. 
If  life  is  sickening  and  if  mankind, 
Prefers  clouds  to  light,  to  continue  blind, 
We  are  not  disposed  to  aid  in  this 
Oblivion  —  to  greet  them  with  a  kiss, 
When  we  should  reprove  and  dare  to  inform, 
Of  what  we  see  in  human  life  deformed ; 
If  we  write  and  publish,  ye  shall  perceive 
As  we,  the  great,  and  oh,  most  crying  need ! 
Of  sense  and  virtue  'mong  the  class  who  reign, 
Above  the  censure  and  the  breath  of  blame ; 


68  OUR     MODERN     ATHENS. 

But  we  can  reach  them  with  our  trusty  pen, 
And  though  not  Jove,  we  yet  can  truth  defend ! 
It  is  the  only  cause  on  this  tear-wet  earth, 
Worthy  of  manhood's  love  and  manhood's  work  ! 
It  is  the  only  cause  which  moves  the  heart, 
Towards  its  God,  and  godlike  strength  impart ! 
Forgive  us,  then,  if  in  our  hearty  hate, 
For  those  tawdry  beings  who  would  be  great, 
We  have  thrown  our  ink  with  ungentle  force, 
To  stay  mad  folly  in  its  wayward  course. 

Farewell,  our  friend !  if  indeed  thou  'rt  a  friend ; 
We  wish  thee  merry  to  life's  latest  end ; 
And  when  thy  bones  shall  repose  in  the  box,  — 
As  thou  art  laid  in  th'  tomb  with  other  corpse,  — 
May  thy  spirit  freed  from  care,  passion,  here, 
Be  perfect  honor  in  a  nobler  sphere ; 
May  virtue's  laurels  bind  thy  angel  head ; 
Thy  prayers  be  offered  for  the  coming  dead ; 
And  if,  perchance,  our  steps  thou  dost  precede, 
Attend  our  sorrows  and  supply  our  need  ;* 
So  we  will  part,  and  in  that  parting  hope, 
On  truth  hereafter  to  more  fondly  dote. 

*  "There  is  something,  I  am  convinced,"  continued  Byron,  "in 
the  poetical  temperament,  that  precludes  happiness,  not  only  to  the 
person  who  has  it,  but  to  those  connected  with  him.  Do  not  accuse 
me  of  vanity  because  I  say  this,  as  my  belief  is  that  the  worst  poet 
may  share  this  misfortune  in  common  with  the  best.  The  w;iy  in 
which  I  account  for  it  is,  that  our  imaginations  being  warmer  than 
our  hearts,  and  much  more  given  to  wander,  the  latter  have  not  the 
power  to  control  the  former  ;  hence  soon  after  our  passions  are  grati 
fied,  imagination  again  takes  wing,  and,  finding  the  insufficiency  of 
actual  indulgence  beyond  the  moment,  abandons  itself  to  all  its  way 
ward  fancies,  and  during  this  abandonment  becomes  cold  and  insensi 
ble  to  the  demands  of  afiection."  —  Lady  Blessinyton' s  Conversations 
with  Byron. 

"  Species  ducet  te,  video." 
HORACE. 


NOTE. 


IF  any  one  should  have  the  patience  and  good  nature  to  read  through 
this  rhyme,  and,  after  "due  deliberation,"  should  charge  the  author 
with  a  "  base  and  malicious  disposition  towards  the  wealthy  classes," 
he  has  only  to  say  to  that  person,  whoever  he  or  she  may  be,  that  he 
values  such  an  opinion  as  he  does  the  howling  of  a  wolf  chained  to  a 
pig-sty.  There  is  no  one  who  entertains  a  higher  regard  for  honorable 
wealth  than  he.  A  good  and  liberal,  whole-souled  man,  cannot  have 
too  much  of  this  world's  goods  ;  because  he  looks  upon  his  success  as  a 
trust  from  Heaven,  and  aims  to  discharge  his  duty  faithfully.  These 
and  their  wealth  he  highly  esteems,  whether  he  happens  to  be  the  re 
cipient  of  their  friendship  or  not. 

His  rhyme  has  been  directed  against  those  miserable  wretches  whose 
money  is  their  god,  —  whose  puffed-up,  vain,  and  conceited  souls  are 
incapable  of  a  noble  impulse,  and  the  chief  pleasure  of  whose  lives  ap 
pears  to  be,  "  looking  down  "  on  their  less  fortunate  fellow-citizens,  and 
assuming  a  consequence  which  is  as  contemptible  as  it  is  vulgar,  and 
unauthoi-ized  either  by  common  sense  or  common  honesty. 

If  his  rhyme  ofl'ends  these  snobs,  he  thanks  God  they  are  capable  of 
feeling  his  arrows,  and  he  only  regrets  it  is  not  in  his  power  .to  drive 
them  between  the  watery  walls  of  some  Red  Sea,  that  like  Pharoah  and 
his  host,  they  and  their  bastard  seed  might  perish  forever. 

We  have  taken  the  liberty  to  allude,  in  the  course  of  this  verse,  to 
the  fashion  of  the  times,  which  is  to  cram  the  heads  of  all  those  who 
are  ambitious  to  be  stuffed  with  any  quantity  of  learning.  In  our 
allusion  we  have  been  a  little  playful,  and  for  the  reason  that  we  see 
so  much  in  this  custom  which  is  ludicrous  in  the  extreme. 

One  of  the  most  entertaining  novels  that  ever  was  written  could  be 
made  up  of  the  over-educated  brains,  and  dry,  unsympathetic  hearts, 
of  the  society  of  this  and  other  communities  of  New  England.  We 
sincerely  trust  that  some  one  who  has  the  genius  adequate  to  the  work 
will  ere  long  present  us  with  the  ludicrous  in  the  educated  circles  of 
New  England.  Learning  has  absolutely  become  an  egregious  bore,  in 
too  many  instances.  So  much  is  this  the  case  that  persons  with  a  fair 
amount  of  common  sense,  and  good  dispositions,  feel  themselves  to  be 
unsafe  among  what  is  termed  the  "  learned  world,"  lest  they  should 
discover  their  ignorance  of  the  ancient  and  modern  languages,  the  de 
tails  of  history,  together  with  the  data  of  science,  the  beauties  of  the 
poets,  the  rules  of  art,  and  all  other  matters  discussed  by  the  learned  ; 
in  the  event  of  which,  poor  souls,  they  are  liable  to  the  awful  fate  of 
being  contemptuously  classed  with  the  "  vulgar."  We  think  there  is 


70 


NOTE. 


. 

upon  the  face  of  God's  green  earth  no  meaner,  more  despicable  object 
than  he  or  she  who  makes  a  parade  of  their  knowledge  with  a  view  to 
embarrass  others,  —  a  not  infrequent  occurrence,  in  our  "  highly  edu 
cated  New  England  society."  If  some  one  does  not  attempt  the  illus 
tration  of  these  double-refined  nosegays  —  this  ludicrous,  bombastic 
scholarship  —  feeble  as  we  are  for  the  task,  we  shall,  nevertheless,  ap 
proach  it  with  what  power  we  possess,  and  knock  at  least  some  few 
feathers  from  the  birds  at  which  we  aim. 

There  is  reason  in  all  things  ;  and  so,  too,  there  should  be  reason  in 
the  management  of  one's  knowledge.  If  mere  saps  of  either  sex,  be 
cause  they  have  a  certain  amount  of  polite  learning  in  their  noddles, 
are  to  be  encouraged  in  the  assumption  and  absurdities  so  glaring  in 
society,  it  is  quite  time  that  the  pen  of  satire,  as  an  avenging  sword, 
should  be  drawn  against  them,  and  wielded  with  relentless  vigor.  It 
is  the  only  means  which  can  save  us  from  running  into  that  sadest  of 
all  conditions  —  literary  sottishness. 

On  reading  "  Our  Modern  Athens  ;  or,  Who  is  First?  "  to  a  pleas 
ant  friend,  she  looked  at  us  with  a  fearful  countenance,  and  said, 
"Do  you  really  mean  to  publish  that?  Why,  sir,  there  has  been 
nothing  so  severe  ever  given  to  the  public  ;  and  though  most  truthful, 
it  will  bring  about  your  ears  untold  curses." 

We  replied,  that  we  did  not  care  whom  we  offended  ;  that  we  had 
been  impressed  to  make  the  attack,  and  should  follow  out  our  purpose. 
We  had  been  witness  to  the  insolent  pride  and  bearing  of  the  snobs  of 
"Athens,"  and  could  not  resist  the  sweet  temptation  to  hiss  them 
heartily.  We  have  not  done  with  them  yet,  nor  shall  we  desist  from 
our  intention  of  castigating  them  periodically,  until  the  novelty  of  our 
task  wears  off. 

"  But,  sir,"  replied  our  friend,  "  you  have  imposed  upon  yourself 
a  heavy  burden.  You  can  never  hope  to  change  the  ideas  which  are 
so  offensive  to  all  true  refinement,  in  brains  which  are  incapable  of 
correct  notions  of  life." 

"True,  true,  most  true,"  we  interrupted  ;  "  we  cannot  change  their 
ideas,  perhaps,  but  may  we  not  disease  them  —  give  them  the  dysen 
tery  or  consumption  ;  so  that  by  and  by  they  will  disappear." 

Our  kind  friend  laughed,  and  then,  with  a  great  deal  of  gravity, 
said,  "  Sir,  you  are  a  miracle.  Go  on,  and  prosper." 

We,  too,  in  our  turn,  laughed,  and  wondered  how  our  friend  came 
to  speak  so  much  to  the  point,  and  so  truthfully  ;  for  are  we  not,  kind 
reader,  out  of  the  common  course  of  things,  to  write  as  we  have  writ 
ten  of  "  Our  Modern  Athens  "  ?  If  you  are  a  snob  you  will  not,  per 
haps,  deign  to  answer  us  ;  but  if  you  are,  on  the  contrary,  a  person 
of  virtuous  tastes  and  inclinations,  you  will  unhesitatingly  commend 
our  adventure,  and  do  all  you  can  to  circulate  the  document.  With 
such  as  you  we  can  shake  hands  honestly.  As  for  all  others,  against 
them  we  wage  an  eternal  war  of  laughter  and  contempt !  Snob  !  — 
fare  thee  well  ;  —  remember,  the  fool  has  said  in  his  heart  there  is 
no  God  ;  and  the  surest  way  to  become  a  fool  is,  if  you  are  of  the 
mass,  gender,  to  perfume  your  whiskers  ;  and  if  of  the /em.  gender, 
to  color  your  eye-brows,  and  "cut  "  the  humble. 


re  13705 


M189007 


our 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


